#AND /AND/ when it happens the feelings are a buckling catching or locking of the knee and you wont be able to walk on jt

[littl-vs]

holy shit you can dislocate your kneecap??

[spliffymae]

forgotten connie drabble (18+ mdni)

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

“SURPRISE!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE!”

you moved to the side once you were inside, coming in behind the man of the hour himself. sasha had been running rampant to throw him an amazing surprise party. and you were in on it, tasked with bringing connie home from work and acting as if you know nothing about what the current day was.

which proved to be hard the second connie got into your car after putting his bag in the back seat. “ahh shit! they got mi cielita to take me out. where we going, mami?” connie was grinning ear to ear as he looked at you, dimples popping below red freckled cheeks.

he was so cute, and you were gonna hate to do this but, “what’re you on about, springer?” you scrunched your face up in confusion at him. you then quickly looked ahead to pull out the parking lot. if you looked at him for too long you were sure you’d crack.

connie rolled his eyes, not buying your ignorance. “oh stop that, y’know what i’m talking bout.” he said as he buckled himself in and then reclined the passenger seat.

with the strongest will you could muster, you kept up the confusion, looking back at him and with a quirked brow, “you got a game or sum?” you asked, knowing damn well he had nothing going on today. his birthday happened to land on the off day for ball practice AND track practice, not to mention he didn’t have class either.

now, when sasha told you to act like you forgot that his birthday was today, she failed to mention to you that it was something connie’s mother had done plenty of times in his life…not as a joke, though.

connie really cared about four women in his life: you, sasha, his little sister, and his mom. so you forgetting his day took a pin to his bubble and popped the fuck out of it. he didn’t dwell on the subject anymore, changing to now talk about your days. however, connie was feeling down on the inside. all his friends had wished him a happy birthday either via call, text, or social media post. have you not been on your phone today?

when you pulled up to his and sasha’s shared apartment, you flashed him a smile but it was not reciprocated. connie was staring ahead, zoned out in thought. so much so he doesn’t feel you turn the car off or hear you call his name.

“con” you pushed his shoulder slightly, getting him to snap out of his own head.

“hm?”

“we’re at your place. is it cool if i come up to use the bathroom?” you usually wouldn’t say anything and invite yourself into his apartment. days when you’d get him we’re days you set aside to hang with him. but today seems to be different. connie wondered if you had made plans that made you forget about his birthday.

“uh yeah, sure.” he said lowly. he reached back to grab his backpack and with that, got out the car. you could see the defeat in his walk towards the doors. he was mumbling to himself, more times trying to dissect what the hell was going on with you. because you wouldn’t just forget, right?

you got out the car and sped walk to catch up, sending sasha a quick text to let her know yall were back. you also cussed her for telling you to do this to connie, knowing how pouty he gets.

the walk to the elevator was quite, along with you two getting off at his floor and going to his apartment. however, before connie turned the key he put into the lock, he turned to you. his eyes were glossed over and cheeks dusted with a crimson red. he was chewing on his bottom lip, hazel eyes filled with worry. “did i do something, mami? you mad at me?”

and oh my god you wanted to break the act right there…but you were RIGHT THERE.

you blinked, “what do you mean, con? why would i be?” you wanted him to just open the door. once he opened the door you could drop the act, you could give him all the birthday love you were holding in since midnight.

connie let out a sigh and turned back around, giving up on the matter and turning the lock to go in. the day was no longer felt good. what good was a birthday if the one person he wanted to spend it with forgot about it?

when the door opened, connie walked inside and turned on the light and was immediately met with screams, cheers, and camera lights in his face.

which brings us here, to where he freezes and looks around at his friends from his basketball team, work, childhood, and sasha standing in the middle with a cake.

connie spent a good couple seconds taking everything in, he was slightly embarrassed to say once he believed you had forgotten he immediately forgot the day, choosing to just wallow in his room as he smoked a spliff.

you took a step forward, hands behind your back and coming up on his right. “happy birthday, connie.” you bumped him with your hip, once again snapping him out of his own head and bringing him back to the present.

the big, toothy smile he had in your car came back, now decorated with deep dimples and eyes watery with tears of appreciation.

just as he was about to say something to you, jean pulled him away, leaving you two with an unfinished conversation.

•　　.°•

you were talking to sasha in the kitchen as connie was socializing with all his guests. he hadn’t had the chance to come back to you just yet, but you weren’t worried. you didn’t plan on going anywhere.

“i told you! he’s so brain dead when it comes to you that he’ll completely forget everything. did you see how lost he looked when he saw us?” sasha was so happy that her plan had turned out well. she knew her best friend well enough to know it wasn’t going to take a lot to get his mind off his literal day of birth. not when you were the one thing that stayed on his mind and could pull his attention from anything.

you playfully rolled your eyes, “i still hated seeing how sad he looked. why didn’t you tell me i was damn near triggering him?!” you were nursing your second cup of a mimosa, slightly tipsy.

sasha giggled. she, on the other hand, had been four shots in from when you guys came in. “i forgot. but it’s all good now. oop—here he comes.” before you knew it, sasha had stepped away and now connie was in your space.

his eyes were low and bloodshot, having just come back from a hotbox with his guys in the car. “mami, you really are sum special.” he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to be flush against him.

you smiled, “sasha made me, pa. you know i would never forget your day.” you traced his lips with your finger, your acrylic nail going along his prominent cupids bow. connie held your hand still and kissed your finger, then moved your hand so it was at the back of his head. it brought you closer into his space, his cologne taking over your senses. he loweeeed his head to touch yours, looking in your eyes.

“¿dónde está mi regalo, princesa? his hands trailed up from your waist to your back, to your elbow and then shoulder. he tucked one of your locs behind your ear, staring at you as if you held both the moon and the stars. “i been dying to unwrap it” his eyes were scanning all over your face, taunting you with his hidden meaning.

“quiero mi pastel, ma. soy hambriento.” he undid the button with ease, bringing you to gasp and instinctively grip the small curls on the back of his neck.

“later.” you said softly, giving him a sweet smile to match. but connie smirked with wickedness, red eyes gleaming of mischief. his hand trailed back down to the waistband of your baggy pants.

“c-con.” you could feel his long and slender fingers pad over your core. he pressed his index and his middle against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. “this party’s for you.” you bit your lip when you felt him move them in a circular motion, the wetness of your pussy dampening your panties.

“it’s my birthday, right? i can do whatever i want, right?” you were gonna answer, but then he pushed your panties to the side. he had rubbed your lips to collect your slick on his fingers, and slowly began to push them inside of you. your mouth opened, but no words came out.

“oh princesa, did you forget how to talk? just like how you forgot papi’s birthday?” he tsked, shaking his head, “made me so sad. y’know” the force of his thrusts picked up, knocking you back to grip the edge of the counter behind up. “a mean joke you guys pulled on me.”

“pa…i-i can’t be quiet” you panicked, looking at connie with worrisome eyes. he knew you were a screamer, fuck it was what he loved about you. pleasure would overwhelm you quick and all your composure would go flying out the window. you got animalistic when you’d approach your peak, and connie never missed the chance to see it. but today, you were doing your best to show restraint the clench of your jaw let him know you really wanted to get it out but were resisting.

connie took his other hand to rub a thumb on your clit, turning his ears off to anything that wasn’t your faulty breaths or straggled moans. “hm…guess i forgot.”

[the-winter-spider]

Under Pressure | Part 3

Modern!Bucky x reader AU

Word Count:3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of su!cide attempt, depression, angst

A/N: TB to when this was suppose to only be one long ass cliff hanger fic lol

Masterpost

----

The flashing red and blue lights from the emergency vehicles cast harsh, flickering shadows through the window. The apartment felt heavy, suffocatingly silent except for the muffled voices of police officers speaking quietly near the door.

Sam took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of dread pressing down on him, cold and unforgiving, all the what ifs racing through his mind. When he reached your door, he froze for half a second, taking in the scene—the paramedics gone, the cops now lingering, and Bucky.

Bucky was sitting on your couch, his head bowed, his elbows braced on his knees. His hands were clasped together so tightly they were shaking, his knuckles white. He didn’t look up when Sam stepped inside.

“Buck,” Sam said, his voice hesitant, already cracking.

Slowly, Bucky turned his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting Sam’s. They were hollow, haunted, like he wasn’t entirely there, looking at him like you were no longer here.

“No, no, no,” Sam muttered under his breath, panic creeping into his voice as he moved toward him.

Bucky’s face crumpled, and he buried it in his hands, a sound breaking out of him that Sam had never heard before. It wasn’t a sob; it was deeper, more guttural, like the sound of someone being torn apart.

Sam’s stomach dropped, his legs shaky as he turned to one of the officers. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The cop opened his mouth to respond, but Sam couldn’t hear him. His own heartbeat was too loud, a deafening thrum in his ears. He stumbled closer, his voice louder this time, more desperate. “Where is she? Is she alive?”

One of the officers, a woman with a calm but tired demeanor, stepped forward. “Yes,” she said firmly. “She’s alive. The paramedics got her heart beating again before they transported her to the hospital.”

Sam’s knees nearly buckled as the tension in his body released slightly. He turned back to Bucky, whose head was still in his hands. “She’s alive, man,” Sam said, his voice shaking. “You hear that? She’s alive.”

Bucky nodded faintly, but it was like he couldn’t fully absorb the words. He just stared at the floor, tears streaking down his face.

Sam sank onto the couch beside him, leaning forward to catch his breath. “Can we have a minute?” he asked the officers, his voice raw.

The female officer nodded. “We have everything we need. We’ll be outside to make sure the apartment gets locked up before you leave.” She paused, her voice softening. “Fifteen minutes.”

Sam nodded, pulling out his phone with trembling hands and sending a quick text to Steve:

Sam: Code red. Something happened to y/n. Meet us at the ER..

He turned to Bucky, who still hadn’t moved. Sam hesitated for a moment, then pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend. Bucky didn’t react at first, but then he let out a broken sob, clinging to Sam like he was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“What happened, Buck?” Sam asked gently, his voice low but steady.

Bucky pulled back slightly, his hands shaking as he gestured toward the floor. “She was there,” he said, his voice trembling. “Right there.” His finger pointed to the spot where the paramedics had worked on you. “She was gone. She… she was dead, Sam. I saw her, she was dead…she died.”

Sam’s throat tightened, his eyes darting to the empty pill bottle sitting on the coffee table. He felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Was it…?” Sam started, his voice faltering. “Was it an attempt?”

Bucky shook his head violently, his jaw clenching as he tried to force the words out. “It wasn’t an attempt,” he said bitterly, his voice cracking. “She was successful.” His shoulders shook as another sob broke free. “She was gone, Sam. They—they were gonna call it.”

Sam’s chest tightened painfully, tears burning in his eyes as he stared at his friend. “Oh, my God.”

“I made them try again,” Bucky said, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands trembled as he gripped his knees. “I begged them. Told them to go one more time. Just one more. And they… they brought her back. But, Sam, I…” He choked on his words, shaking his head. “I lost her. She was gone.”

Sam reached out, gripping Bucky’s shoulder tightly. “She’s not gone, Buck. She’s alive.”

Bucky’s breath hitched, his tears falling harder. “But she doesn’t want to be! What if she…” He trailed off, his voice breaking completely.

Sam’s own tears slipped down his cheeks as he shook his head. “We’re not gonna let that happen,” he said firmly. “We’re gonna be there for her. Every step of the way.”

Bucky nodded weakly, his shoulders slumping as he leaned into Sam’s side, utterly spent.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on them. The apartment was quiet now, the flashing lights from outside casting eerie patterns across the walls.

----

The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room buzzed faintly, casting a cold, sterile glow over the space. The chairs were stiff and uncomfortable, arranged in neat rows that felt far too orderly for the chaos swirling in Bucky’s mind.

He sat slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed as his hands fidgeted with a fraying thread on his jeans. His breathing was shallow, fast, his shoulders tight with tension. Every now and then, he glanced at the doors leading to the emergency ward, willing someone to walk through them and tell him you were okay. He hoped that maybe this would just be some sick nightmare because that's what it felt like.

Sam sat beside him, quiet but not calm, his knee bouncing restlessly as he stared at the floor. He kept glancing at Bucky, unsure if he should say something, do something, but the sheer anguish radiating from his friend made him hesitate. Sam was crushed, you were one of his best friends, he knew he should have tried more but at the same time he felt like he had. He kept replaying all the most recent moments he had spent with you, analyzing everything, how could he have not noticed any of the signs, he was trained to look for the signs.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled Sam’s attention, and he looked up to see Steve and Natasha rushing into the waiting room. Natasha’s red hair was slightly disheveled, her face pale and pinched with worry, while Steve’s brows were furrowed in confusion and concern.

“Bucky!” Steve called, his voice sharp as his eyes scanned his friend. “Sam! What the hell is going on? What happened? Was she in an accident?”

Bucky didn’t look up. He didn’t even flinch at Steve’s voice. He stayed hunched over, his jaw clenched tightly.

Sam cleared his throat, his voice shaky as he tried to find the right words. “No,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Then what?” Steve demanded, his frustration and fear mounting. “What happened? Why are we here?”

Sam hesitated, glancing at Bucky before looking back at Steve. His throat tightened as the words clawed their way out. “You remember high school? When Bucky told us Y/N… got sad? Like, really sad? And sometimes…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “She didn’t wanna be alive anymore?”

Steve’s expression shifted instantly, his eyes widening as the memory slammed into him. “Yeah, I remember,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “But she was getting better, right? She was…” He trailed off, his gaze darting between Sam and Bucky, desperate for reassurance. “She was getting better. Right?”

Sam’s lips quivered, and he shook his head slightly, the weight of his next words crushing him. “She tried to, Steve,” he said, his voice breaking. “She tried to.”

Steve froze, his face contorting with a mix of shock and disbelief. “What?” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “I… I need to hear it, Sam. Tell me what happened.”

Sam looked over at Bucky, who still hadn’t moved. His face was blank, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of his jeans.

“She tried to take her life,” Sam said finally, his voice trembling with the effort it took to say the words.

“No,” Natasha whispered, her voice breaking as she shook her head violently. “No, no, no. She wouldn’t…”

“She did,” Bucky said suddenly, his voice sharp and bitter as he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression filled with anger and pain. “And you’re shocked? Really? After what you said to her? After the way you dismissed her?”

Natasha flinched as if she’d been slapped. “Bucky—”

“No!” he snapped, standing abruptly. His voice was louder now, filled with years of pent-up frustration and guilt. “You told her you didn’t want to be her friend anymore because she couldn’t show up for you. You told her she wasn’t there for your brightest moments, and then you walked away. You fucking walked away. We all walked away!” ”

“Bucky, stop, it's no one's fault, we couldn’t have seen it coming.” Steve said, his voice calm but firm, stepping forward, but Bucky turned on him too, his chest heaving.

“Are you kidding me? We're all at fault! Were shitty fucking friends!” Bucky shouted, his voice breaking as he pointed toward the emergency doors. “None of us saw it coming because we were all too busy pretending she was fine!”

Sam stood, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Bucky, stop,” he said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. “She wouldn’t want us turning on each other.”

Bucky let out a bitter, hollow laugh, his shoulders shaking. “She didn’t want any of this, Sam! She didn’t want life, and she didn’t want us. She wanted to leave, and she almost—” His voice cracked, and he turned away, running a hand down his face as tears spilled over.

Natasha stepped forward, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Bucky. “Where is she?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What exactly happened?”

Bucky didn’t turn around. His hands gripped the back of one of the waiting room chairs so tightly it creaked under the pressure.

“They worked on her,” he said, his voice hollow. “She was gone. Right there on her living room floor.” He gestured toward the floor as if he were still standing in your apartment. “She was dead, Nat. I begged them to try one more time, and they did, and… and she came back.”

Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth, a muffled sob escaping as she stumbled back into Steve’s arms.

Steve held her tightly, his own tears pooling in his eyes as he looked at Bucky. “So she’s alive?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

Bucky nodded, his back still to them. “She’s alive. Barely.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them like a storm cloud. No one spoke for a long moment, the only sound the faint hum of hospital machinery in the distance.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat, his voice steady but quiet. “We’re here now. For her. For each other. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He just nodded, his shoulders slumping as he sank back into the chair. His hands shook as he rubbed his face, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a vice.

The waiting room was thick with tension, Bucky sat slumped in his chair, his head in his hands, tears streaking down his face as he tried to hold himself together. Sam sat beside him, occasionally glancing toward the emergency doors, his leg bouncing nervously. Steve and Natasha were across from them, Natasha’s hands clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white as her nails dug into her palms.

When the door finally opened, all four of them looked up simultaneously, their breath hitching as a doctor stepped inside. The doctor was a middle-aged man with a kind but exhausted expression, his white coat slightly wrinkled, a clipboard tucked under one arm.

“Bucky Barnes?” he asked, glancing around the room.

Bucky’s heart stopped for a moment before he slowly raised his hand. “That’s me,” he said, his voice hoarse from crying.

The doctor nodded, stepping closer. “You’re listed as Y/N’s emergency contact.”

Bucky’s stomach twisted at those words, his mind racing. He managed a faint nod. “How… how is she?” he asked, his voice shaking.

The doctor let out a slow breath, his expression calm but serious. “She’s stable,” he said carefully. “But it was touch and go for a while. We lost her a few times… one of those times was for over two minutes. But she has a stable heartbeat now, and she’s breathing on her own.”

Relief crashed over the group like a wave, but it was short-lived as the doctor’s somber tone lingered.

“Is she going to be okay?” Sam asked, his voice tentative.

The doctor sighed, his gaze heavy. “It’s difficult to say. Every situation like this is unique, and every individual responds differently. We’re not sure what the long-term effects will be, if any. Losing oxygen for even a couple of minutes can cause brain damage. Right now, it’s impossible to know.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, her hand flying to her mouth as tears spilled from her eyes.

“And from a psychological standpoint…” The doctor hesitated, his gaze softening. “When patients wake up after an attempt, their reactions can vary greatly. Some experience extreme distress or hysterics and require heavy monitoring. Others find a renewed meaning in life. And… some don’t wake up at all.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his chest heaving as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying and failing to steady his breathing.

“We have to stay optimistic,” the doctor added gently. “She’s alive, and she’s fighting. That’s what matters right now.”

Sam nodded, swallowing hard. “Can we see her?”

The doctor gave a small smile. “Of course. I’ll take you to her room.”

They stood as one, following the doctor down the long, sterile hallway. The beeping of monitors and the faint hum of machinery grew louder as they approached the ICU. When they reached your room, the doctor pushed the door open and stepped aside to let them in.

The sight of you stole the breath from their lungs.

You were lying in the hospital bed, pale and still, your lips tinged with a faint bluish hue. Wires and tubes were connected to your body, machines beeping steadily to monitor your vitals. You looked lifeless, and for a moment, it was hard to believe the doctor’s words—She’s stable. She’s alive.

The doctor cleared his throat softly. “I’ll give you some time,” he said, his voice kind, before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

For a moment, no one moved. The weight of the moment pressed down on them, suffocating and unrelenting.

Bucky broke first.

He crumpled into the chair beside your bed, his face burying in his hands as sobs wracked his body. His shoulders shook violently, and the sound of his crying filled the small room. “This is all my fault..”

Sam crouched beside him, his hand resting on Bucky’s back. “Buck,” he said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. “It’s not your fault, man.”

Bucky shook his head, his hands gripping his hair. “I should’ve been there,” he choked out. “Why wasn’t I there? Why did I leave her alone?”

“Bucky, stop,” Steve said gently, stepping forward. “You can’t blame yourself for this”

Bucky’s head snapped up, his tear-streaked face twisted in anguish. “She told me to go, and I did, I left her! I knew she was getting bad again, I knew! I knew…”

“Buck—” Sam started, but Bucky cut him off, his voice rising in desperation.

“I love her,” he said, the words spilling out like a confession, raw and unfiltered. “I love her, and I never told her. And now she might leave without knowing. She might leave without ever knowing how much I love her.”

Natasha stepped forward, tears streaming down her face. “We all love her, Bucky,” she said softly, her voice shaking. “We’re all here for her.”

“No, you don’t get it!” Bucky snapped, standing abruptly and pacing the small space. His hands were shaking, his chest heaving as he struggled to get the words out. “I don’t just love her. I’m in love with her. I’ve always been in love with her. And now I might never get the chance to tell her. I love her so much.."

The room fell silent, his confession hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky turned back to the bed, his knees buckling as he sank into the chair again. He reached out, his trembling hand brushing against yours where it rested limply on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Please don’t leave. Please wake up. I need you to wake up.”

His tears fell onto your hand as he gripped it tightly, his head bowed as he cried. The others stood quietly, their own tears falling as they watched the man who had always been their rock crumble under the weight of his grief.

And in the suffocating silence of the room, they waited.

---

The bass from the club’s speakers vibrated through the floor, the air thick with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and perfume. The neon lights pulsed in time with the music, casting flashes of pink and blue across the packed dance floor. You were pressed against the bar with Steve, Natasha, and Sam, all of you laughing and slightly tipsy, the heat of the club buzzing in your veins.

Natasha leaned in close, her red hair glowing under the club lights. “I can’t believe you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday!” she yelled over the music, grinning as she waved at the bartender. “This is the best idea we’ve had in forever!”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “You dragged me here!” you shouted back, laughing as Steve handed you a drink.

“And you’re welcome!” Natasha quipped, smirking as she threw her arm around you.

The DJ’s voice suddenly boomed over the music, catching your attention. “Alright, alright, alright! We’ve got a special shoutout tonight!”

Your stomach dropped, and you immediately turned to Natasha, your eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

“Not me but..” Natasha grinned wickedly, handing you a shot. “You’re gonna need this,” she said, her tone gleeful.

“Wait, wait—” you started, but the DJ’s voice interrupted.

“We’ve got a birthday girl in the house! Y/N, this one’s for you baby!”

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, strangers clapping and screaming like they all knew you personally.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, throwing back the shot Natasha had handed you. The burn hit your throat just as the opening notes of Under Pressure blared through the speakers.

“No. No, no, no,” you said, shaking your head and laughing in disbelief. “Where is Bucky?”

As if on cue, you spotted him weaving through the crowd, a huge grin plastered across his face, his eyes shining with excitement. His hair was a little messy, his shirt slightly damp from the heat of the club, but he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Bucky, you didn’t!” you yelled as he reached you, your laughter bubbling over.

“Of course I did! It's our song!” he shouted back, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, birthday girl!”

Before you could protest, he was pulling you toward the middle of the dance floor. The crowd seemed to part for him, the sweaty bodies making just enough room for the two of you.

As the iconic beat dropped, the two of you threw your heads back and screamed out the lyrics, your voices barely audible over the music but full of pure joy.

“Pressure, pushing down on me…”

Bucky’s hand never left yours, spinning you around as you both jumped and danced wildly, laughing so hard you could barely catch your breath. Every so often, he’d lean in close to shout a particularly dramatic lyric, his smile so big it made your chest ache with happiness.

By the time the song ended, both of you were panting, your faces flushed from the exertion and the heat of the club. The crowd around you roared with approval, and for a moment, it was just the two of you standing there, grinning at each other like idiots.

Bucky’s expression shifted slightly, his smile softening as his eyes searched yours. The noise of the club seemed to fade into the background, and for a split second, the world felt still.

“Hey, um” he said, his voice quieter now, barely audible over the next song. “I—”

“What?” you asked, leaning closer to hear him.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, Sam appeared out of nowhere, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Birthday shots, let’s go!” Sam shouted, steering you back toward the bar with a wide grin.

You giggled, letting Sam guide you through the crowd, but you glanced back at Bucky over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you leave, his hand hanging in the air like he’d been about to reach for you.

For a moment, he just stood there, his lips parting slightly before he whispered to himself, “I love you.”

You stopped, turning to look at him with a laugh. “Are you coming?”

Bucky’s face broke into a soft smile, the kind that made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t want to analyze.

“With you? Anywhere,” he said, weaving through the crowd to catch up with you.

As he reached your side, his hand brushed against yours, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. As the night went on, filled with shots, laughter, and dancing, that moment stayed with him, etched into his memory like a perfect snapshot of a life he didn’t want to imagine without you.

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

VERSION I.

(a/n: Hey everybody, back with the continuation! 🙋‍♀️ as you can see from the title this is only the first version of my bllk manager 'story' meaning there's more to come ^^ The current plan is to write with multiple players a similar episode like the one below. So I hope you enjoy it!! ❤️)+if u see any grammatical errors let me know tyy

WARNING!-none

wc: 1.4 k words, so buckle up cause it's gonna be a looong ride again sry T_T

ALSO: requested tags ❤️-@ttheggrimrreaper @god-is-disappointed

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…1, Itoshi Rin.”

'Player number one, Itoshi Rin. Player number one, number one…number…'-the words rang in your head like a mantra as you tried to process the information over and over again.

“PLAYER NUMBER ONE?!”-you exclaimed once realisation hit you in the face. Perhaps, a little too loudly, earning yourself quite a few envious looks and surprised glances. Standing in the room for a few seconds, you didn’t move due to the shock of what just happened. You might have stayed like that forever, if one of the girls who were still waiting for their turn, hadn’t shouted at you.

“Yeah, we heard that the first time!”

Rude. You thought, before snapping back to reality and heading towards the door that had the ‘MANAGER’ label on in bold, black letters. Stepping into the room, to your surprise, was Anri waiting there, sitting at a desk with neatly arranged papers, folders, and all kinds of pens on it. Sensing your presence, she stood up, and when you got there, she extended her hand, saying “Congratulations” with a bright smile. You thanked her before she turned around, searching through a pile of booklets before stopping her finger on the one with your name written on the cover.

“Here. It’s kind of like a little guide, it will be very helpful for adjusting to your player. This thing contains your new routine and some useful information as well.”-she said, handing it to you.-“Good luck and welcome to Blue Lock!”

She then directed you to Team A’s soccer field, where the boys were currently training. Walking your way there, you felt your hands starting to sweat, heart beating a little faster than normal, and the feeling of excitement from earlier coming back. After all…

Imagine being THE Itoshi Rin’s manager, who’s the best in Blue Lock with his jersey number confirming his position.

Itoshi Rin, with whom your first meeting couldn’t have gone worse. Who, after only 5 minutes, tells you with a straight face that:

“I don’t need a manager.”

Leaving you stunned at his plain attitude and bluntness. Seeing as you stare at him, without another word, he turns around and starts to walk away, which causes you to panic. Not knowing what to do in this case, you call out his name multiple times, hoping he stops. That doesn’t seem to work, so you decide to shout at him the first thing that comes to your mind.

“ARE YOU ITOSHI SAE’S BROTHER?”

The moment those words slipped out of your mouth an incredibly awkward silence fell over the room. Oh. My. God. This was probably the dumbest thing you could have said, but in your defense, it did make the boy stop in his tracks.

Catching up to him, you apologized, saying this was just a slip of the tongue. Rin looked unfazed, but the way his body tensed up told you that you probably touched a sensitive topic there. Before you could open your mouth again, he sighed and gave you a nasty stare, walking past your figure without sparing a second glance.

Great first impression.

——————

•Rin, who after that incident starts ignoring your presence. Whenever you hand him a water bottle or try to strike up a conversation, the only thing you get back is an uninterested look. Your apology the day before was also left on heard.

•Learning it through the hard way, but working with him meant keeping his brother’s business or any news or posts related to him out of your mouth. Even mentioning the famous footballer's name was forbidden territory, and although you never questioned his strange behaviour towards the older one, you do wonder what happened between them.

•Rin, who has a particularly strict routine that he follows without a break, doesn't expect you to be near him, but when the opposite happens with you sticking around, like an annoying fly 24/7, he wishes to find a way to somehow get rid of you.

•He doesn't know that you work your butt off, spending your free time watching every single match he has previously played in as well as analysing and taking notes of his every move. From waking up earlier than the player himself to prepare his yoga mattress and drinks for the morning to staying up until midnight to help him collect the footballs he shoots for late-night practices and cleaning up as soon as he finishes.

•However, it takes weeks until he finally talks to you, his first words being "Move over!" because you were standing in front of the weights he was gonna use. Over time though, even if it's just a short yes or no, a huff or an ugly look, but he starts to answer the many questions you ask every day out of concern or curiosity.

•Rin, who’s stoic and not a man of many words, silently starts to appreciate the way you have his daily routine and training engraved in your mind. You, who's always within arm’s length making sure he doesn’t overwork himself to death or forget his meals. You, who never knows when to shut up, sticking to his ass all day to confirm he’s alive and well, complaining or scolding him for being rude and unfriendly to his teammates, and showering him in compliments from time to time like:

•“You were amazing on the field earlier!” or “I’m jealous of your eyelashes!” and then there’s his favorite line that goes -“Isagi looked soooo shocked at your goal!” (it’s not a compliment, he thinks it is)

——————

•After weeks of working together, you’ve mastered the art of reading his microscopic facial expressions to know what he wants or thinks without him having to tell you directly. You’re busy, work schedule being fully packed, but still making time to accompany him in the evenings to rewatch and analyse his games before bed.

•However, sometimes too tired to stare at the screen, you end up falling asleep on his shoulder, making him complain to you the next day to quit drooling on his uniform and get a grip. He doesn’t want you to 'slack off' he says, but ultimately the underlying message is to take care of yourself.

•Rin, who works ten times harder during the preparation for the U20 match, training to face his brother on the field and making you constantly remind him to: “Get some rest” or “Relax, otherwise you will get injured before the real match!”-your words being ignored as usual.

———————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Rin’s popularity skyrockets following the victory of Blue Lock, yet he always manages to respond in a raw, unfiltered way at press conferences and interviews, that leave many reporters and paparazzi speechless.

•His newfound fans, on the other hand, adore his cold demeanor, and the comment sections are each time filled with either compliments about his plays or looks and never the ridiculously simple answers he gives to the media.

•Joining the team of PXG also makes the teal-eyed boy change in many ways, but surprisingly his attitude towards you somehow remains the same.

•Rin got 'new' teammates, a new coach/mentor, and new training routines. Everything is new. Better. Yet, he’s somewhat relieved that you're still his manager. The one who’s not afraid to call him out or nag at him. Knowing when to leave him alone at times. Letting him focus on his goals without getting in his way. Keeping him away from Shidou Ryusei outside the field as much as possible. Shoving down his throat the meals made according to his diet and making sure he sleeps exactly 7.5 hours.

•He hates to admit it, but you’re perfect…for being his manager of course. The only problem he finds is the way you make his heart move a little when you come to his games, supporting him with his jersey on, proudly wearing the name Itoshi Rin and number 10 across your back.

•Heck, these days he also can’t seem ignore the way you stare at him for an unnecessary amount of time during his warm ups and stretches, the slight shade of pink covering your cheeks every time he runs to you after a match, covered in sweat asking for some water and his towel.

•He notices your flustered state when he bends down a little to hear you better, or the way he sits just a tad bit closer to you during your French tutoring. It’s distracting. Not only to you, but to him as well. Yet, he doesn’t mind it nor does he do anything about it.

•Maybe in a few years, he thinks, if you'll still have some affection left for him, he could allow something other than just a strict, professional relationship between the two of you.

•However, currently, there’s no place on his priority list for you since football is his number one goal after all. He knows you understand that, that’s what he loves about you. Besides, you’re going to stay by his side for a long time, so what’s there to rush?

———————

(Gosh, my eyes gave up after rereading this for the third time 😭 hope you guys enjoyed it, let me know if u think this was a little too long and tyyy for the support ❤️ (★‿★)

[p0orbaby]

A Girl Consumed by Fire

summary: or the five times alexia kisses you in private and the one time she doesn’t care who sees anymore

warnings: a little suggestive at points but you’ll live, injury

a/n: yeah i know this trope has been rinsed to death. but do i care? absolutely bloody not

word count: 3.3k

-

Things between you and Alexia had always been, charged, so to speak.

Even on your first day you felt it. There was a static in the air when you were greeted at the gates. The corridors of Joan Gamper buzzed with, something.

You chalked it down to excitement. Why wouldn’t you? Your first day at a shiny new club with the prospect of winning lots of shiny trophies with the best players in the world. To not be excited would be offensive.

But it was when you saw her up close and personal for the first time that you understood what was going on. All she did was walk out of a meeting room, but the world seemed to pause in its tracks just for her. Her presence was suffocating in the best way, her stare intense as her eyes met yours briefly before she smiled and continued down the hall.

And that was that. Love at first sight you ask? Of course not..!

1.

The band snaps 26 days into your contract.

You’re both sweaty and tired and alone.

Like after all sessions, the changing room is filled with the lingering scent of hard work and the faint hum of the overhead lights. You’re bent over, hands on your knees, catching your breath as the other players filter out, chattering about their plans for the evening, you think. You haven’t quite grasped the language yet.

Alexia on the other hand had stayed behind to work on a few extra drills, just like you had.

Perhaps it was subconscious on your part, staying later than you needed to. But the only plans you tended to have after work included either going home or walking off the lust that had bubbled through your chest whenever she kicked a ball.

You now know the footprint of Barcelona extremely well.

���Good work today,” she says, her voice low and a little husky from running around for three hours.

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, flashing her a tired smile as you straighten up and peel off your shirt, revealing your sports bra underneath. The cool air feels refreshing against your damp skin.

Spain is so fucking hot.

Then, like a game of chess, she makes her move.

She takes a step closer to you. A timid one at first as she scans the room to make sure the two of you are truly alone. There’s a tension in the air, a palpable electricity that seems to crackle between you as she locks her eyes with yours.

You’re not sure who moves next, but suddenly she’s right in front of you, standing tall and strong and oh so pretty above you. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against your arm, sending a lightning bolt of electricity dancing across your skin. Her touch is soft, almost hesitant, but there’s a boldness behind it that almost makes your knees buckle.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Alexia leans in, her breath warm and quick against your skin. Then, she closes the gap, capturing your mouth in a quick, feather light kiss. It’s sudden and unexpected, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to react. Her lips are soft, tasting faintly of salt and the raspberry electrolyte drink she chungs between sets.

She pulls back just as quickly, her green eyes wide, searching yours for a reaction. There’s a mischievous smile tugging at her features, a rosiness in her cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“Eso es lo que pasa cuando te desnudas delante de mí,” she says, and you think she’s teasing you by the playful lilt on her voice. Or it’s just her beautiful Spanish accent. You really can’t tell.

For a moment, you’re speechless, your heart practically pounding out of your chest. The changing room feels both too small and impossibly vast at the same time, the air thick with the beginning of something you're too scared to think about in fear of it shattering in your hands.

You finally manage to find your voice, though the words come out sticky.“I-, I have no idea what you just said”

Alexia chuckles softly, the sound sending another shiver down your spine. She steps back, giving you one last lingering look before she turns to head for the showers. “See you tomorrow,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice echoing slightly in the empty room.

You’re left standing there, your mind in the clouds, replaying the moment over and over again. The kiss was cursory, but it’s burned into your memory. You touch your lips, still feeling the warmth of hers, and a smile creeps onto your face.

2.

Phone, jacket, headphones, backpack.

All present and-, wait. Where’s your backpack?

“Where the fuck has that gone then?” You mutter to yourself as you check under your seat. The seat in front. Your overhead. And under your seat again to make sure you’ve not gone crazy.

As you suspected, you hadn’t. It isn’t there. This is really not the time.

“Todo bien?” Comes a very familiar, very sudden voice from the front of the bus however long later.

It startles you, enough that you end up banging your head on the underside of a table.

“Hi, Ale” you say between wincing and rubbing the bruise forming on the back of your skull, “everything’s fine”

“You are on the bus, no?”

You sigh, shaking your head as you peer out from your crouching position. “I can’t find my bag. I must’ve shoved it under the seat, but it’s not here”

She abandons her own bag before striding your way and drops down beside you. “I help you to look” she says with a smile so warm it could melt the ice caps in an afternoon.

The bus is quiet now with the two of you silent and occupied with the task at hand. Though it’s a type of quiet you’re comfortable with. One that doesn’t need to be filled with small talk or waffle or the awkward cleaning of throats.

You’re about to give up until finally Alexia spots your bag wedged between a seat and the wall.

“Lo encontré,” she says, pulling it out and holding it straight out in front of her. Frowning as she notices how covered in dust it now is.

You briefly wonder if she will be having words with the bus maintenance staff.

Regardless, relief floods through you as you take the bag from her. “I’m going to kill those fucking kids”. She looks at you with her eyebrows raised and that smirk she saves for when she pretends she's not listening to you and Mapi arguing. “I mean, thank you Ale”

“No te estreses. Tus espinilleras de la suerte están a salvo”

“I know I know. I’m trying” you reply, bashful that she knows about your scabby old kit and your weird little traditions.

She grabs your chin then, her large hand lifting your head so you can look at her. “Esfuérzate más” she commands before she ducks her head and attaches her lips to yours.

It’s quicker than before, if at all possible. But the intent behind it so much different. Like a balm healing your wounds rather than a stoker provoking a flame.

“¿Mejor?” She asks when she fully retreats.

“Better” you repeat because you are. You so are.

3.

You feel like you’re having an affair. It has the factors of one, at least.

Whispered calls when at your respective international camps, stolen glances during meetings, and now, these secretive moments together. It’s early in the morning at the gym, the sun just beginning to rise, its soft glow painting itself over the equipment.

You’re both here early to avoid the rush, but also to steal a few moments alone. The air is filled with the faint buzz of the HVAC system, the occasional clink of weights, and your own rapid heartbeat. Alexia finishes her set and looks over at you, her eyes filled with an unspoken yet very obvious question.

You nod subtly, understanding her without words. She approaches you, and without preamble, takes your hand and leads you to a secluded corner of the gym, hidden from view by the array of machines and weights.

She turns to you, her eyes scanning your face, searching for any hesitation. Finding none, she steps closer, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s urgent and full of quashed emotion. Rife with the risk and thrill of being caught.

“He estado pensando en ti toda la noche,” she admits between kisses, and you whimper into her mouth.

You had your first official date the evening before. A dimly lit Asian restaurant in a quiet corner of the city. Lingering touches under the table. Her nose running against the angles of your jaw as she holds back her urges on the pavement outside.

You had been thinking about her all night too.

Her hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. The gym’s early morning quiet makes the moment feel even more intimate, as if the world outside has ceased to exist.

“I can’t get enough of you,” you breathe out, breaking the kiss for a moment to look into her eyes. They’re almost black, hungry, impatient to get what she wants. And you’re happy to give it to her.

“Pues no lo hagas” she replies, her voice raw and filled with desire. She kisses you again, deeper this time, her hands roaming over the expanse of your back. Sweat be damned as her fingers breach the hem of your top to trace over tacky skin.

You groan into her mouth, feeling her touch ignite a raging fire inside you. Her hands slide up, pulling you even closer, the kiss growing more desperate. Her breath is hot against your skin as her lips move down your jaw, then your neck.

“Alexia,” you gasp, your hands gripping her tighter, nails leaving crescent moons in her skin as they dig into her shoulders. She looks up at you from under her lashes, her eyes filled with the same aching need you feel.

But just as you’re about to give yourselves to each other completely, a noise from the entrance makes you both jump. You pull apart, breathless and wide-eyed, turning to see one of the training staff walking in, clearly shocked to find people in here so early.

“Uh, no esperaba a nadie aquí todavía”, he stammers, looking between the two of you suspiciously.

“Sólo estábamos... entrenando un poco más...,” Alexia says quickly, shakily, as she tries to regain some semblance of composure.

“Right,” you add, trying to steady your own breathing and smooth the creases Alexia has created on your clothes. “Early bird and all that”

Rafael nods slowly, still looking very slightly puzzled. Your English idioms flying straight over his head. “Bueno, entonces iré a prepararme. Disculpadme”

As he walks away, you and Alexia share a look, adrenaline still thrumming painfully through you. You’re transported back to your teenage years, hiding things from your parents. Giggling about all things relationships with your friends at the dinner table at lunch.

“¿Más tarde?,” she asks, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt.

“Definitely,” you reply, giving her a kiss on her lust bitten cheek before you both return to your routines. Always making sure there was blonde hair in your periphery.

4.

The trip had been a welcome break from the relentless pace of the season. The team had earned a couple days respite, and the serene coastal town of Cadaqués provided the perfect escape. Now, you find yourself on the balcony of the hotel room, the ocean waves crashing softly in the distance. The evening air is cool, carrying the salty scent of the sea.

You’re both sitting side by side, the balcony’s small table cluttered with the remains of your dinner. Alexia’s hand is resting on the armrest of your chair, her fingers just grazing yours.

“I can’t believe how peaceful it is here,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Leaning your head back to bask in the remainder of the sun.

Alexia turns to you, a soft smile on her lips. A smile saved just for you, you’ve learnt. Well you and her precious trophies, but that’s by the by. “Sí, lo sé. Es bueno... respirar”

You nod in agreement, your eyes drifting out to the horizon where the sky is painted in hues of pink and orange. Mesmerised by the boats rocking on the water. You wonder if Ale would ever be up to sailing one herself.

The conversation flows easily enough, touching on everything from the match preparations to the local cuisine. It’s comfortable, natural, the kind of exchange that happens between two people who know each other well.

“Voy a tomar una copa,” Alexia says after a while, standing up and stretching. “¿Quieres algo?”

“Surprise me,” you reply.

As she heads inside, she pauses to lean down and press a quick, tender kiss to your waiting lips. It’s effortless, an instinctive expression of affection that has become part of your routine. Woven into the fabric of your relationship, never to be unpicked.

“Volveré,” she says with a smile before disappearing into the room.

You sit back, a content smile on your face, listening to the sounds of the evening. It’s moments like these, simple and unforced, that make everything feel as though this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Alexia returns a few minutes later with a can of coke for you and a water for herself. She hands you the can and sits back down, her shoulder brushing against yours.

5.

Cotidie morimur, we die every day. It’s dramatic but today it has shown to be true.

Alexia scoffed when you recited it to her, but you have a right to be frustrated. And frustrated you’ll be for however long your body takes to heal.

You’re sidelined for weeks, maybe longer, and the reality of it all hits you hard. The doctors have diagnosed it as a torn Semimembranosus. Otherwise known as a really fucking bad hamstring strain. And the limitations on your movement are a constant reminder that you can no longer do for what you are paid.

Alexia has been by your side through it all, a constant steadfast presence of comfort and support. Now, she’s helping you in the bathroom, her bathroom, her movements careful and tender as she assists you into the shower. The water is warm, cascading over your skin, but it does little to soothe the ache in your heart.

“Let me help,” Alexia says softly, her voice breaking the silence. She speaks in English because she knows you’re far too overwhelmed to translate what she is saying. She is too good for you.

You nod, too exhausted, too emotional to speak. She takes the soap and gently lathers it over your shoulders, her movements light and careful around your sore muscles. You can’t hold back the tears anymore, and they join forces with the water running down your face.

“I know it is hard,” she murmurs, her voice thick with easy empathy as she washes your back. “But you will get through this. We will get through this”

You sniffle, trying to keep the sobs at bay, but you fail miserably. Your throat closes the more you try to push the tears back to where they came from. “I feel so useless”

She turns you gently to face her, her eyes searching yours through the water droplets clinging to her own lashes. “You are not useless. You are strong. This… this is just a moment. It will pass”

The sincerity in her eyes is your undoing. The tears come harder now, and Alexia pulls you into a careful embrace, mindful of your half broken body. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, her lips warm and reassuring as you stand there trembling in her arms.

“Estoy aquí,” she whispers against your skin. “I am here”

Her words are an outstretched hand, grounding you as you let the emotions run their course. She continues to help you wash, her touch gentle and comforting as she cleanses you. When the sobs finally subside, she leans in and kisses you softly, her lips tender against yours.

She is apologising through her actions as though she is to blame.

You cling to her, the kiss a salve to your wounded spirit. It’s a promise, a reminder that you’re not alone in this. As the water continues to fall around you, Alexia stands tall, strong, steady. Making up for the slouch in your shoulders and the bump in your road.

“Thank you,” you whisper into her collarbones when the kiss ends, your voice unstable as if it does not trust itself to do its job.

She smiles, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “Always, mi amor. We will get through this together”

1.

D Day.

Your first game back after the injury. You feel like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

The atmosphere in the stadium is electric as always, and you can feel the energy of the crowd pulsing through you as you step out of the tunnel. Every cheer, every chant feels like a victory in itself.

The game has already been secured, your team leading with a comfortable three goal cushion coming up to the final ten minutes of the game.

The subs board goes up when the ball goes out of play. Aitana’s number for yours. Your cue. Your heart leaps out of your chest when you step up to the touchline.

As discussed the weeks leading up to this moment, Jona thought it best to ease you back in, giving you the last few minutes to get a feel for the field again. It’s a calculated move, a chance for you to shake off the rust without any pressure.

And you didn't. You had fun. You felt fresh and new and ready to take on the world.

As the final whistle blows, signaling the end of the match, a wave of relief and triumph washes over you.

You’ve made it. You’re back.

The cheers of the fans fill the air, but nothing compares to the sight of Alexia running towards you, her face flushed and sweaty and happy. She reaches you, and before you can say anything, she pulls you into a tight hold.

“Estoy tan orgullosa de ti,” she whispers fiercely, her voice so full of pride it makes tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Happy tears this time though. You don’t think you’ve got any sad ones left.

“Thank you,” you manage to reply, the words barely escaping your lips before her mouth is on yours.

The kiss is spontaneous, a crude outpouring of emotion that catches you off guard. It’s fierce, passionate, and utterly uninhibited. For a moment, the world around you fades away. There’s only Alexia, her lips on yours, her hands gripping at your shirt like she never wants to let you go.

Somewhere in the distance you hear the flurry of chears and gasps from the crowd, but neither of you pay it any mind. This moment is yours, a testament to everything you’ve endured and overcome together. When you finally pull back, her eyes are shining with her own unshed tears.

“Te quiero,” she says, her voice steady despite the tumultuous fire coursing through her. The shake of her hands. How she tiredly leans into you. You are Icarus and she is the sun.

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Your pain finally thawed.

Your teammates swarm around you both, their hails and congratulations mirroring those coming from the sea of Blaugrana in the stands. Mapi claps you on the back, grinning like a cat who has just got the cream. “¡Vaya beso! Now that’s how you make a comeback”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep inside you, unable to be contained. The team forms a circle around you, and for a moment, you stand at the center of it all with Alexia by your side, feeling more loved and supported than you ever have before.

[noyasmashing]

Asking Haikyuu!! Characters Out

CW: Nishinoya, Hinata, Yamaguchi, Kenma, Sugawara, lots of blushing, no nsfw this time!

A/N: Been dying to write about more Kenma so ofc I had to sneak him in there

Nishinoya: If Nishinoya had a crush on you, he'd be completely delusional about it, and to make matters worse, Tanaka would only encourage him. Did you ask him what day it was in class? Yep, according to him, you're head over heels but too shy to admit it.

And despite all his bravado, he'd be utterly taken aback if you asked him out on a date. Picture red ears, stuttering words, and avoiding your gaze out of sheer nerves.

Once you're deep in conversation on your date, he'd start with the cheesiest pickup lines. If you happened to bite your lip, he'd insist on kissing it better. I wouldn't be surprised if this man proposed to you with a candy ring pop.

But when it's just the two of you, his confident façade would vanish. He'd become all whiny and desperate for your touch. Pinning him against a wall and kissing him would literally make his knees buckle.

Yamaguchi: While Yamaguchi tends to be shy around others, he can become quite chatty when you catch him alone without Tsukishima around. I have a feeling he'd be really into J-pop/K-pop, so if you share that interest, you guys would hit it off instantly.

When you started talking more, he might have assumed it was because you liked Tsukishima. But if you were to ask him on a date? Oh boy, he'd be giggling all shyly.

Of course, he'd probably suggest going to a cafe or an arcade. A cafe date would feel incredibly romantic to him—sitting across from you, sipping a warm latte, engaging in good conversation—it would make him weak in the knees.

Walking him home after and planting a kiss on his lips would catch him off guard. He'd be nervous, worried you might think he's inexperienced and tease him, so he'd try to act like he knows what he's doing.

But if you were to place a hand on his hip and deepen the kiss, he'd pull away, confessing that he likes you so much, and he’s scared that you might not like him back if he’s a bad kisser.

Hinata: Even if Hinata was head over heels for you, that poor boy can be incredibly clueless. Lost in the world of volleyball, if you suggest doing something together, he might just ask you to set for him. 🤦‍♀️

Later on, when someone finally clues him in that you were hinting at something romantic, he'd feel so bad! He'd show up at your desk with your favorite drink and candy in hand, suggesting to go downtown for some fun shopping!

When you guys do go out in public, he'd get incredibly bashful if you wanted to hold his hand. A cool, pretty person like you wanting to hold him?? He'd be over the moon. When you two lock hands or even just link pinkies, he'd feel so calm and secure, never wanting to let go.

Kenma: Kenma could be silently obsessed with you for years without saying a word. It'd be incredibly hard to read him, making it tough to decide whether to make a move.

But when you finally do, he'd give you the warmest smile that instantly erases any doubts you had. However, being shy, he'd prefer to do something at home.

He'd absolutely love baking with you! Creating silly cakes resembling Minecraft or another video game he's into would be a blast for him, and it'd be quite humorous too!

Once your creations are ready for tasting, he'd become shy if you tried to feed him. He couldn't help feeling mushy and embarrassed as he opened his lips for a bite. And if you swiped frosting off his cheek? His whole face would turn red, and he'd want to curl up into a ball.

Sugawara: Sugawara often struggles with feeling like less of a teammate for not being in the starting lineup. So, receiving special attention from someone as attractive and cool in his eyes as you would completely blow his mind.

If you were to ask him to spend quality time together? He'd plan the sweetest little picnic and nature walk. On the outside, he'd act chill and fun, but deep down, he'd be freaking out.

And if you casually complimented him? Oh boy, his face would turn as red as Tendo's hair, trying not to lose his cool. The way you praise him so casually, as if he should know how amazing he is, makes him feel incredibly special. He'd just want to be wrapped in your arms while you showered him with kisses all over.

[blackdollette]

"heard that you like the bad girls." | spencer reid

video games. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: when the black cat meets the golden retriever.

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x spencer

word count: 1.2k

contents: opposites attract, spencer being a sweetheart, fluff, not proofread

it had to have been a cruel joke played by the universe when you and spencer were assigned to work on a job together.

your interactions with him had never gone past glancing at him as he passed by or blankly nodding at the factoids he spat at 100 words per minute. he was a self-proclaimed genius, equipped with intelligence that many could only aspire to obtain. so it didn’t make sense to you why it was always as if his IQ got slashed in half whenever he spoke to you.

spencer was a sophisticated individual, particular about everything from the way he carried himself to how each chestnut-brown strand of his hair was laid. while you were the polar opposite. you went with the wind, going wherever the night took you. your attire consisted of dark colours and you put minimal effort into making yourself look professional, though you suppressed your style just a little to help it meet the nonexistent workplace requirements. even with your lack of interactions, spencer could tell you had a bold personality. and he longs to search and explore every part of it.

the first step he took in getting to know you was offering to give you a ride to work. as usual, you were running late. he’d said that he’d be at your place by 7:30 and you watched the long arm of the clock tick to 7:29. you slipped on your dark brown sweater, letting it rest on top of your pleated black skirt. you hastily put on your dark tights, finishing off the look with your black doc martens. you looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure you didn’t look as crazy as you felt you were going.

as the clock hit 7:30 the doorbell chimed, perfectly on cue. you quickly grabbed your bag, dashing down the stairs until you reached the front door, seeing spencer through the lens of the peephole. you let out a soft breath, taking in the 6 feet of elegance that awaited you on the other side of the door. the bright morning sub made his hair appear to be made of one million pure gold threads, his eyes turning into soft pools of honey.

with a deep breath, you opened the door, greeting him with a warm smile. he met your eyes with warm eyes and the softest smile you’d ever seen. he stared at you, not saying anything for a good moment until you cleared your throat to catch his attention. he ran a hand through his hair, blinking himself out of his smitten daze.

he couldn’t get over how much he wanted to know about you. you were attractive in a frustratingly effortless way, like you just so happened to roll out of bed looking like a goddess. he had gotten lost in your gaze again, finally coming to his senses after another long minute. “g-good morning.” you laughed softly as he stammered. “morning, doc.” you teased, never having bothered using such formalities before.

he went to extend a hand toward you before thinking that he was moving too fast. “shall we? my car’s in your driveway.” you nodded, walking out the door and shutting it behind you, making sure to lock it as you and he strolled over to his car. he opened the door for you and you hopped in, slightly flattered by his chivalrous gesture. he got into the driver’s seat next to you, stealing a quick glance in your direction as you buckled up his seat belt. he’d never been able to take his eyes off of you, but the feeling got even more intense when you were this close, your scent filling his nostrils. he started up the car, pulling out of your driveway.

you yawned, rubbing your eyes as he began to drive down your street. he raised an eyebrow. “tired?” you nodded. he began to speak again, his eyes lighting up in the way that they usually did whenever he went off on irrelevant tangents. “for optimum health and function, the average adult requires around 7-9 hours of sleep to function properly during the day. but studies show that 60% of women fall short of that goal.”

you laughed a little, amazed by how quickly he could pull the facts out of his head. he pulled out of your street, driving in the opposite direction of the workplace. “how about we head down to that coffee place across from your house? i saw it when i was coming earlier.” and he absorbed knowledge like a sponge. you smiled. “yeah, that’d be great. thank you, spencer.”

you could’ve sworn you heard him squeal when you called him by his name. you pulled out your mirror, fixing up your hair as he pulled into the parking lot. “i’ll be back in a minute, okay?” he walked into the cafe before you could respond. and he hadn’t even taken your order. you were willing to bet a large sum of money that he’d draw an assumption on how you liked your coffee. you took it black, no cream and no sugar. but no guy had ever guessed that right.

you flipped through the radio channels, searching for something good to play. you assumed that you’d be waiting for him for a while. but he walked out of the shop before you could even settle on something to play. he hopped back into the car, holding two large coffees in his hand. your eyes were wide. “that was quick.” he nodded. “i ordered ahead of time. i had a feeling you wouldn’t be used to heading to work this early.”

you rolled your eyes, accepting the cup he held out to you with a smile on your face. you took a slow sip of the drink, eyes growing with surprise as you tasted the familiar, bitter mixture. he was watching you with a stupid little grin on his face. “no cream and no sugar, right?” your eyebrows inched up on your forehead. “how’d you know that?” he shrugged, putting the keys back into the ignition. “i see you everyday. it’d be a shame if i didn’t know how you took your coffee.”

you felt a sizzling sensation spreading in your cheeks. you turned away slightly, watching the atmosphere change as he drove away. the car fell silent, something you’d never expect from spencer. then he opened his mouth to speak again. “h-hey, i’ve been meaning to ask you something…” you tilted your head to the side, curious at what he had to say. he took a deep breath, trying not to sound as awkward as he knew he was. “all this work stuff is pretty hectic, like all the time. but you seem… i-i dunno. you always listen to what i have to say and never act like i bore you. s-so… i was wondering if you’d like to try out that new restaurant that opened after work…?” 

he regretted asking as soon as the word came out, but you were grinning from ear to ear as you heard him speak like a normal, nervous guy instead of the genius he was. “you asking me out on a date, spencer?” he swallowed hard, quickly looking over at you. “i guess you could put it that way…” you stayed quiet, watching as he squirmed in his seat. you found that you liked getting him all riled up. you lifted up in your seat a little and pecked him on the cheek, his face immediately flushing with crimson. “pick me up at 7:30. don’t be late.” 

you and him both laughed at the irony of that statement.

author's note: i need to rewatch criminal minds. i've completely forgotten everything about it

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Make You Work

Sequel to Work It Out

Warnings: noncon, body insecurity, minimal editing.

Trainer!Clark Kent x short!chubby!reader; we didn't think this one was gonna happen, did we?

To those who read, I’d love a thot or two of what you think!

You press your back to the lockers. You can’t breath. Your skin speckles in a new sheen of sweat as you stare at the beast before you. The man with his damp curls and flushed cheeks, stone set in his jaw. The flames in his eyes scald you. 

“Clark?” You croak, terrified. 

He moves, too fast for you to react. You cry out, your feet tangling as you throat out your arm and drop your jeans onto the floor. He catches your arm and pulls you back, pinning you to the lockers as he snarls down at you. You brace yourself, whimpering as grabs your other wrist and forces your arms straight above you. You wriggle and flutter your lashes as tears sting in your eyes. 

“Clark, please, what are you doing?” You puff breathlessly. 

“I need you,” he growls as his humid breath fans over you. 

“No--”  

Your voice snags in your throat as his eyes drop down. He looks down at himself and you follow his gaze to the front of his shorts. You see the bulge beneath the dark fabric, twitching as you gasp. You tug on your wrists to no avail as he pushes them together, squeezing them tight as he wraps them in a single hand. 

His other roams down to your shoulder and his fingertips brush up your neck. You squeak as traces the line of you chin and pushes his knuckle against your lips. You stare up at him through welling eyes. You might be flattered if you weren’t so damn scared. 

He drags his hand back down, trailing down your throat and along your chest. His fingers rest over your ragged heartbeat and he tilts his hand to cup you through your bra. You shiver as he gropes you. 

“Please,” you beg in a willowy whisper, a tear riveting down your cheek. 

He doesn’t seem to hear you. There’s a tint to his eyes that makes you doubt he can. He slips his hand around the band of your bra and forces his between you and the metal doors. He pinches and swiftly unhooks the clasp. The fabric slacks and lifts as your tits drop out the bottom. It stays strung across your chest as your arms remain locked in his clutches. 

He brings his touch back to your chest, jiggling each tit, rolling his thumb around your rigid nipples. He purrs and dips his head. You cry out as he takes a bud in his mouth abruptly, his warmth seeping in you. Your sneakers squeak on the floor as you shift helplessly. 

He nips and you babble, more tears flowing as you shake your head. This isn’t happening. He can’t do this. He wouldn’t. Not to you. You’re not... good enough. 

He flicks his tongue around and sends a thrill down your spine. His hand wanders down your stomach and you suck in, conscious of your extra cushion. He tickles along the top of your panties, the one’s he said were so cute only moments before. A compliment you took as a taunt. 

He pushes his fingers flat against you and slips beneath the cotton. You tilt your head up and gnash your teeth, staring up at his grip still firm around your wrists. It isn’t as nice as you once fantasized. All those years when you thought you would die to have a man like him look your way. This just feels... suffocating. 

He grazes along your glossy curls and you squirm. You squeeze your legs together against his touch and he growls against your skin. He teethes you as his breath stains your chest. He nuzzles between your tits as he pokes two fingers between your folds, curling them as he forces them against you. 

Your knees buckles as your hip pangs suddenly. You whimper as the shock that zips up your leg, feet slipping apart as you try not to collapse. You don’t think you actually would, just dangle from his grasp like a puppet. 

He pushes further, his hand lodging between your thighs as he feels along your cunt. He drags his fingertips back and forth, rubbing you as your insides coil. A slick layer coats your lips, smearing around as lifts his head higher, burying it in the crook of your neck as he prods around your entrance. 

He drags his fingertips back and toys with your clit, flicking, swirling, swiping, teasing until your puffing wildly up at the ceiling. Your lip trembles as your chest burns. The sensations meld into a store of horror and delight. 

He snarls and bites into the tendon of your neck, pinching as the tension builds inside of you. Your thighs strain shake as you arch your back. A whine rises from your throat as sparks scatter through you and orgasm rents right up your middle. Your stomach muscles knots and your eyes roll back. 

It’s wrong, you know it is, but you can’t and won’t stop him. 

He pants against you, in time with you, as if he could feel the same release. He unlatches his mouth from you and raises himself up. He looks down at you and jerks you forward away from the lockers. You yelp as pout helplessly. His eyes creep up and down your body as he slips his hand free of your panties. 

He spins you suddenly, releasing your arms as you exclaim and flail towards the bench. You catch yourself on the metal, bent over and breathless as he closes you in from behind. He grabs your hips and you try to stand. He grips the back of your neck and holds you down, your ass up as he presses his crotch against you. 

He rocks his hips, simulating his intent as he grunts. His fingers crawl around your waistline and he rips the elastic down your ass. You yipe and squirm as the fabric falls just above your knees. He kicks your feet further part as he squeezes your neck till it tweaks. 

He feels along the front of his shorts and yanks them down. You fill him spring out against your ass, the rigid flesh rubbing between your cheeks. Your knees touch the bench and you lean forward, only for him to pinch your neck tighter. You relent as he guides his tip along the curve of your ass. 

You close your eyes and grit your teeth. Your hang your head as he bends his knees. He rubs himself against your folds, pausing to push against your entrance, before repeating the motion. Down, up, down, up, then he stops, poking until you feel your cunt stretching around his tip. 

He splits you in half slowly. That’s what it feels like. He rocks patiently, inch by inch, dipping deeper and deeper. The hot invasion has you moaning and mewling as your head lolls back and forth. His hand slides to your shoulder and his fingers curl into the muscle there. 

He leans into you until you’re on your toes. You whine as his pelvis presses to your ass. He wiggles as he buries himself completely in your taut walls. He groans and holds himself there. 

He exhales as he pulls back and your insides clench. As he slides back in you whimper. How do you feel even more full then before. 

He grabs your hip and pulls your ass higher as he thrusts again. Still slow, still patient. His deep groans drone through the air.  

His hand drifts down your back as his rhythm slowly builds. He brings it to your other hip, holding you in place as he rolls his hips against your ass. He growls and bucks harder, jolting you as you cry out. Your shoulders wrack as his nails dig into your flesh. 

He snaps his pelvis again. You mewl and he lifts your feet off the ground, holding you just off it as your bodies clop together. He rams into you, harder, deeper, furiously battering you as he loses all control. You keep your hands on the bench, dangling helplessly as he uses you. 

He slides his hand away from your hop and hooks his arm across your stomach. He pulls you up flush to him and your head falls against his shoulder. He clings to you, keeping you hovering as he ruts wildly, puffing over you as he bounces you against him. 

“You’re so sexy,” he snarls, “can’t you feel it?” 

He pounds harder and harder as your voice fizzles out and you reach back to latch onto his thick shoulder. His fucks you furiously as you bite down on your tongue, spasming. You cum again, even less ready for it than before.  

He turns and pushes you against the lockers. He crushes you as he jerks his hips up, over and over, grunting and growl as his hand runs up to knead your chest. He presses the tip of his nose to your grown and groans as he quakes. You feel him cum inside of you, fucking it into you until he’s whimpering. 

He stills, urging himself as deep as he can go. You gurgle and press a shaky hand to the metal. He lifts his head and kisses the top of your head. Slowly, he lowers you to the floor and slides out of you. A gush spills down your thigh as only your gasping breaths meet your ears. 

You lean, trembling, on the lockers and stiffly roll to face him. Your panties droop to your ankles as he pulls his shorts up. He cracks his neck, one way then the other, and shakes out his arms. He blows out a sigh and pushes back his curls. He smirks at you as his blue eyes glint. 

“Good work out,” he chuckles as he wipes his forehead, “don’t forget to stretch.” 

He spins on his heel, whistling as he struts away. You stare after him, stunned, and slide slowly down to your ass as your knees finally give out. You bow your head and reach under you, feeling along your swollen lips as you flinch.  

You feel empty and torn. You snatch your hand away and mop the tears from your damp cheeks. You didn’t even realise you were still crying. You fix your bra and reach back to hook it in place. Every muscle in your body hurts. 

You put your hand down and lean forward, groaning as you lift yourself to hands and knees. You crawl to grab your jeans the shift towards the bench. You grab it and push, forcing your feet under you, one then the other. 

You stand, swaying, and shake out your pants. It takes you several tries to step into them.  

When you finally get them buttoned, you pull on your jersey shirt then the zip-up you wore over it. You zip up your gym bag with your phone inside and ball up your gym clothes. You care them to the bin by the door and waver at the threshold. You drop them into the garbage and make yourself leave. 

You stumble through the gym, looking straight and no where else. Is he there? Is he watching? Will he follow you again? 

You walk faster and faster, unsteady and clumsy as you rush towards the stairs. Your fear bubbles up with the humiliation. You don’t let it boil over it, fighting desperately to outpace it as you clamour down the flights. 

You’re never going back. Never, never again. You tried working out. It’s not for you. 

[dpspcehntr]

XAVIER: An Introduction

Pairing: Xavier x Reader

Zayne | Sylus | Rafayel

Word Count: 0.5K

Warnings: wet dreams, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving)

Welcome to part 4 of this series! This series is me introducing you all to how I write for them. Requests are open and feel free to leave a comment cause I love them and read them. It also keeps me motivated!

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this one. I kinda put some of my own fantasies in this one so it was really fun to write. I wanted to post him first originally but I am glad I waited! This idea came to me when I finished my Halloween asks. Anyway! Enjoy!

"I had a dream about you last night but I'm too embarrassed to tell you what happened."

You snuggle into his chest while a movie plays on low volume. His arm was snug around you tracing circles on your back.

"No fair! I tell you all my dreams, especially the ones about you!"

You pout and squeeze his waist a little tighter. He clears his throat and grabs your arm. He lightly pushes you off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. His face was a bright shade of pink and he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Oh it was that kinda dream. Well now I'm more curious."

You lean into him, inches away from his face. Your breath hot on his face as he blushes deeper.

"I want to recreate it."

He finally lifts his eyes to yours, his breath coming out in pants. It must've been some kind of dream for him to be so worked up.

"Y-you were standing over me and ah- uh you were r-rubbing yourself right in my face. I-I was jacking off and you licked my cum of-off my chest."

You at him in his ruined state, already getting hard, lost in the recollection of his dream. You slide off the couch and stand in front of him. You slowly slip off your shorts and underwear. His eyes growing more and more desperate as you revealed yourself to him. You kneel on the couch.

"Like this?"

You stretch your leg over to the arm of the couch, positioning yourself right in front of this face. You slowly start to rub your clit as a whimper leaves his lips.

"Yea just like that."

He quickly rids himself of his shirt, reaches in his pants and pulls himself out. He grips himself in his hands and slowly begins to pump himself in time with you. With your other hand you slide your shirt over your breasts and roll your nipple in between your fingers. You toss your head back with a wail and increase your speed. He follows suit pumping himself faster. Here you are locked in pleasure with each other lost in thought of the other. You slip a finger inside of yourself nearly buckled over in pleasure as he whimpers your name over and over.

"Xavier, I'm close."

"M-me too."

You pump your fingers harder into you, your orgasm teetering right on the edge. You feel his face inch closer to you, his breath hitting your clit. His tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your opening and you clench down on your fingers. You groan out as you gush over your fingers and his face. Feeling you cum over his face he blows his load over his stomach with a whimper. You collapse on the couch next to him and catch your breath. You look over at him, pupils blown, his lower lip swollen from biting it. You lean over and hover right over his stomach.

"Like this?"

You stick your tongue out and lap up the cum on his skin with a hum. He tasted sweet and you made sure to clean up every drop.

"Fuck. Yea just like that."

You sit up and pull his face in for a kiss, letting him lick the inside of your mouth and you moan. He pushes you back onto the couch and hovers over you. He kisses down your body, ready for round two.

[phantomspiderr]

mirror kink w/ evan ‘buck’ buckley x f!reader

kinktober '24 ~ no 6

a/n: I really took a feeble attempt at kinktober and I realised I; 1) am not good at writing smut and 2) get really uncomfortable writing it really easily🙃 anyway I’m gonna try finish one more fic for Thursday and maybe next year I’ll try flufftober instead

“What are you doing with that?” You snicker as you watch your big, strong boyfriend heave your full-length mirror into the room until it’s placed against the wall next to your bed. At that moment you are more than grateful that he is shirtless, his muscles define more with the exertion and it makes your body heat up more than it already is. When Buck moves his attention back to you he’s grinning ear to ear seeing that you’re still lying in the same spot he left you only a moment ago. You’re half-dressed and your breathing is still rapid from the eager make-out you both just shared. A quiet giggle passes your lips as Buck crawls on top of you, your hands instinctively circling his neck and he lowers his head to kiss you quickly. Then in a second, his lips are by your ear and finally, Buck replies to your question.

“I’m going to fuck you,” his head raises until his eyes meet yours, “and I want you to watch.” You catch your bottom lip in your teeth before pulling your body up toward Buck. You’re back to exchanging heated kisses, tongues delving in for a taste as you both feverishly work on removing the rest of each other’s clothing. Buck’s hands are rough; they tug your jeans down your legs, turning them inside out until they’re off completely. Then he dives straight back into kissing you. Your noses brush together, breath mixing as you share another heated kiss. And another. And another. Delicately your hands fumble with Buck’s belt buckle and just as you’re getting close to undoing it one of his hands pushes between your bodies to hook around your wrist. He pries one of your hands away, pressing it into the mattress as he laces his fingers with yours. Absent-mindedly your other hand just follows, expecting him to do the same with that hand but his other hand never appears. Instead, it unexpectedly slips into your underwear, the touch of his fingers has your legs falling open even more.

Your breathing stutters and Buck finds this as an opportunity to move his kisses to your neck, going from placing gentle kisses to biting down just ever so slightly. His head keeps nudging yours to the side as his fingers start circling your clit just the way you like. Your mouth is agape, quiet pants falling out and then a much louder whimper when your eyes open and see the reflection in the mirror. It’s like an out-of-body experience. You watch as Buck’s bicep tenses, defining the muscle again with every movement. You can’t tear your eyes away from the reflection, it has you breathing harder and it doesn’t go unnoticed. You can see Buck raising his head and you can feel the lack of his warmth in the crook of your neck and your hand but it just doesn’t register in your mind that it’s happening to you. His eyes are glued to the side of your face, watching your reaction when he roughly thrusts two fingers into you with ease. Your eyes don’t shut instantly or roll back like they usually do, they’re locked onto the mirror as you eagerly keen. 

“You like watching baby?” His gravelly voice brings you back, reminding you that this is actually happening and you’re not imagining it. Your head snaps back until your nose brushes with his again and then you’re nodding the best you can whining out ‘yes’ over and over as Buck’s fingers continue to thrust into you. Finally, you remember you have control of your body and move your limp arms back around his neck, pulling him down just enough to capture his lips again. A moan escapes you when Buck changes the pace and your head slips to the side, pressing your cheek against Buck’s and feeling the slightest scratch of stubble on your skin. Your eyes fall back to the reflection in the mirror and your breath hitches before another moan slips out. Buck places a few gentle kisses on your cheek, a sweet form of affection amongst the passionate exchange. “You gonna cum for me sweet girl?” Buck changes the movement of his hand, and now his fingers barely rock into you as his palm presses against your clit.

“Please,” you say through a pant, enjoying the new angle as your body curves up into his. It’s a slow build and you have to fight to keep your eyes on your reflection. Your fingers grip his hair and you feel his lips ghost over your jaw, his breath fanning down your neck. Then a choked sound of disappointment escapes you as Buck pulls away. He shushes your cries, “Hold on angel.” His fingers curl under the material of your underwear and he removes them in one swift motion and discards them haphazardly. His rough hands slowly trace up your legs causing goosebumps to rise. Buck suddenly moves off the bed, standing in front of the mirror facing you and his hand circles around your ankle.

“Come here,” you sit up and turn your body toward him and as gently as he can Buck pulls on your leg, dragging you to the edge. You look up at him, mouth agape as his hands come up to hold your face. You feel tiny looking up at him like this, head fuzzy as you wait for another instruction. Buck bends until his lips are on yours again, he gives you just one sweet kiss before he asks you to lay back. You rest back on your elbows and watch as Buck gets down on his knees, prepared to worship you like you deserve. For a second his eyes lock on yours and you see the sudden pink hue grow on his cheeks and it makes your heart flutter. He tries to hide his momentary shyness by pressing gentle kisses on the insides of your thigh, hoisting each leg over his shoulders and slowly his confidence grows again. Your eyes flutter to the reflection behind him, you can see his defined muscles ripple with every move and a long sigh falls from your lips as he raises enough to place a line of kisses on your hip. There’s a smirk on his face when your eyes fall on his again and he’s suddenly diving between your legs without another thought. A satisfied moan echoes through the room and your head falls back as you feel his tongue circle your clit in just the same way his fingers did. Buck doesn’t seem to waste any time, pushing two fingers back into you and your head snaps back up to watch. Your eyes keep moving from his face glued between your legs to the mirror. You can see every curve and line of your own body, something that you’ve worked hard to grow to love which is easy when your boyfriend worships every inch until you believe how very beautiful you are. You actually find it kind of hot being able to watch yourself in the mirror like this, moans falling past your parted lips as your tits bounce softly with every thrust of Buck’s expertly moving fingers. It’s when Buck begins to suck on your clit, teeth just grazing the small bundle of nerves, that you start to feel yourself hurtling towards the edge yet again. You blink rapidly, trying to keep your gaze fixed on the sight in front of you as your moans grow louder by the second. You can feel your legs tensing, heels digging into Buck’s back as he works hard to get you to the point of climax. Your body tingles and his name repeatedly falls past your lips. Then it happens, it washes over you in waves, loud whines echoing as your body shakes. If you could bottle this feeling you would so you could experience it over and over again whenever you wished—but you suppose that’s exactly what Buck is for. You can’t keep your eyes open any longer and you fall back on the bed as even as you hit your peak Buck doesn’t seem to stop. He continues until you’re begging and thrashing on the bed, he has to remove his fingers so he can use both hands to hold you up as your ass now slips off the bed completly. You can just hear the filthy sounds as Buck continues to devour your centre over the sound of your pleas. Your hands yank at his curls as you become more overwhelmed with every passing second, your thighs squeeze his head in a feeble attempt to close your legs but none of it seems to affect him. You don’t know when your first orgasm ended and your second began but you’re practically screaming, sure your whole neighbourhood will think you’re probably being murdered. There’s a veil of sweat covering your whole body and your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest as you continue to pant like a dog. Your painful grip on his hair slackens as he begins to slow his movements, finally showing you some mercy when he pulls away from you with a satisfied grin.

Slowly, you feel your back sliding along the bedsheets until you’re face to face with your gleeful boyfriend. He’s pulled you off the bed to sit in his lap on the floor. His eyes are glued to your face, taking in the blissed-out expression dawning on your features. “You okay?” Buck basically whispers, one hand coming up to brush against your cheek. A breathy giggle escapes you as you nod, mumbling out a yes as your hands come up to wipe away the glistening juices dripping down his chin. Buck protests by nipping at your palm, causing more giggles to erupt and his strong arms wrap around you, tugging you closer till he can kiss you. Immediately the gentle pecks turn into his tongue delving into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You groan deeply when his hands anchor onto your hips and drag you down over his still-concealed cock. You can tell he’s becoming desperate now and so your hands find their way between your bodies fumbling again with his half undone belt. This time he lets you, glad when you manage to unbutton his jeans and feeling instant relief when you reach a hand into his underwear. Buck moans against your lips, feeling satisfied just from your touch. You manage to raise yourself just a fraction to free his cock from its confines and in doing so you disconnect your lips. Buck looks up at you with pure love in his eyes but he’s quick to move his lips to your chest now, sucking a purple mark onto the skin just above your breast. While he busies himself with that you surprise him by dragging the head of his cock through your folds, it elicits a deep groan to vibrate against your chest. Then almost in unison, you moan as you sink down on his cock, taking him inch by inch and his head snaps back until his eyes are on yours. Your arms come to rest around his neck, fingers combing through his hair and you rest your forehead against his. Your noses press together as you both take deep breaths, Buck tilts his chin up to place a chaste kiss on your lips once you’re fully seated in his lap.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Buck smiles as he pulls his head back just a fraction, his hands now digging into your plush sides. A grin makes its way onto your own face and you find a sliver of energy in your tired limbs to begin rocking your hips. You both let out a shaky breath and you feel Buck’s arms firmly wrapping around you and the beginning of his hips thrusting upward. You suddenly catch your reflection directly opposite and you moan, you're unsure whether it’s from seeing yourself in this position or the angle at which Buck’s cock is hitting that spot deep inside you.

“You like this sweet girl?” Another whine comes from you and you feel Buck’s chest vibrate, a muffled chuckle coming from the crook of your neck. You watch in the mirror as Buck now takes over most of the work, he uses his strength to move you as he thrusts his cock into you over and over. You can see a red trail form on his skin as your nails scratch along his pale skin. He groans loudly when you do it, enjoying the mix of sensations and it seems to spur him on to go faster. You’re practically crying from the overstimulation you feel between your legs but you beg over and over for him to let you cum again. “You’re so pretty. You sound so pretty, baby.” His mouth is on your neck as he speaks, mumbled words only making you cry out more. It happens before you can even register it fully, your third orgasm hitting you like a train. You can barely make out the blurry image of you sitting bouncing in his lap, tears filling your eyes as Buck now uses you as some kind of toy. “Just hold on angel,” Buck’s words are strangled and he uses all of his strength to keep you moving, his cock still pistoning into your convulsing walls, “I’m almost there.” Your head falls onto his shoulder, cries mixed with moans still falling past your lips and it only seems to add to Buck’s pleasure and just moments later you feel him cumming. Buck moans loudly as he keeps you moving until he’s completely ridden out his orgasm. His chest heaves as he slows his movements and he loosens the tight grip he had on your hips. Buck finally stops, allowing your body to slump more against his and gentle hands ghost up and down your spine. Quiet whimpers still escape you as you come down, legs still trembling as your muscles continue to contract. Slowly, you can feel your body begin to relax and Buck patiently waits until you’re able to lift your head. 

“Hi.” He grins when he’s finally able to see your pretty face again, one of his hands coming up to caress your cheek. 

“Hi.” You manage a small smile, your body growing heavy with exhaustion. Buck’s thumb wipes the tears that have left trails on the top of your cheeks and he can’t resist the urge to press a kiss to your other cheek as you nuzzle into his gentle touch. 

“You okay?” His voice comes out in a hoarse whisper and you briefly nod at the question. His hand gently pulls you close and he places another kiss on your forehead. Your head sinks back onto his shoulder and he’s quick to wrap his arms around you again. You share a quiet embrace and when your eyes open they find your reflection once again. You watch the slowing rise and fall of Buck's back as he attempts to calm his breathing, faint crescent moons litter his shoulders from where your nails had obviously dug in a little too hard and his curls are now sticking up all over the place from the repeated tugging. An absentminded smile pulls at your lips when your eyes finally see your face, tear-stained cheeks and puffy lips. A heat that crawls all the way up your stomach to your cheeks and a post-sex glow that shines in the setting sunlight peaking through the blinds. You could definitely get used to seeing yourself in the mirror if it was always like this.

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Hurricane Relief

This is part 2.

You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of a disaster and how we learn to cope, move on, and grow.

Word Count: 4k

Notes: 1) This is based off of s1e8, but we are going to pretend that Syd did the tablet thing correctly and Carmen doesn't lose his shit in ep7.

2) I am a completionist at heart so I felt an obligation to finish this because I know that if I was reading something and I didn't get a confession at the end I would riot and I aim to please.

__

“Where did you get the money for bail?”

“Used our two week parachute.” 

Y/n, barely conscious felt something pushed up against her chest. She peeked her eyes open and saw that she was sitting in the backseat of Carmen’s car already buckled in. She shifted over to her left so she could rest her elbow on the armrest against the door and balance her head. Carmen glanced through the rear view mirror to confirm that she was still asleep, he locked the car door so she wouldn’t fall out. 

Richie looked back before uttering a small, “Thank you, cousin.” It was strangely vulnerable to thank someone and even more vulnerable to do it with an audience, even if they were asleep. 

“All good.” 

After a few more beats of silence, y/n assumed that their bro moment had reached its conclusion and that she could finally pretend that she had just woken up. Then she heard a sniffle, at first she thought that her mind was playing tricks on her but she heard it again, and then a few more times. Maybe now was not the best time to announce her presence. 

“You okay?” Although she couldn’t see Carmen’s face she was hearing concern and a bit of apprehension. She could tell he wasn’t comfortable with consoling Richie. 

A small but broken, “Yeah…I’m okay” escaped Richie’s mouth. 

Unable to resist, she stole a quick glance at the rearview mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of Carmen's eyes. They appeared slightly glassy, yet the softness in the corners revealed a simmering sense of relief. Though he was clearly upset, she reassured herself that he would ultimately be alright. Once they returned to the restaurant, she planned to check in on him, but without pressuring him. Recognizing his need for rest, space, and comfort, she understood that he often neglected these needs for the sake of others but she was determined to ensure he received the care he truly deserved.

Carmen took one last look back before pulling out of the parking spot and driving them back to the restaurant. Y/n was wide awake now but she knew that both Carmen and Richie needed some time and space to process what had happened. None of that would work if she was visibly awake, she had a feeling that they would pretend to be all tough by pushing their problems aside because they didn’t want a girl to see them being “sensitive”. So she planned to keep her head down and wait till they were near the restaurant to “wake up.”

The ride back was slow and smooth, Carmen didn’t drive over a single pothole, he stopped softly, and didn’t honk once, which was rare in Chicago. He wanted to drive her home and put her to bed but he had a feeling that she would be pissed if he dropped her off home while they went back to the restaurant. 

They were 45 minutes away from the restaurant but he was wondering if he should wake her up when they got there, or if he should let her sleep in his car. If he left her in the car she would be able to sleep in but it wasn’t safe, what if someone broke a window? At the same time, if he brought her to the restaurant, there was nowhere for her to rest. He was driving on auto-pilot while he was trying to figure out the best way to approach the dilemma, because if there was one thing that Carmen was good at it was overthinking. 

On top of worrying about y/n, Carmen had to steal a few quick glances at Richie to make sure that he was ok, it was hard to tell because he was looking out the window but the reflection showed Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, he was thinking about something, or someone. Thinking was better than being depressed. 

A small selfish part of Carmen wondered if anyone would ever dissect every small aspect of him to make sure that he was also ok, like he did for others. 

The car ride was peaceful and quiet until a neighboring vehicle suddenly honked near y/n’s window, causing her to jolt and accidentally slam her forehead against the glass.

“Jesus, fuck.” Y/n hissed while putting her cold hand on her forehead to calm the bruise that would inevitably form. Her cover was blown.

Carmen’s head whipped back, “Are you ok?” 

“I'm good, it's just a small bump.” She tried to rub the forehead to quell the pain but it was too tender. “Pay attention to the road, I don’t want to see another police officer for the rest of my life.” Carmen involuntarily flicked his eyes to y/n’s forehead through the rear view mirror. 

Y/n couldn’t tell what Richie’s status was and he hadn’t made a single peep the entire car ride, even when she was “asleep”, so she couldn’t gauge whether or not she should talk to him. 

“We’re glad to have you back, Richie '' She left it open and didn’t expect any response in return. He didn’t respond but he moved his eyes from the passenger window to the windshield and sat up straight. Y/n felt a bit of uneasiness, this was the longest Richie was quiet and she kind of wanted him to make fun of Carmen or at least laugh, something to show that he wasn’t hurting. 

The rest of the car ride was quiet, they eventually pulled up to the restaurant and they walked in. Y/n and Carmen had left the restaurant as it was and even though they knew it was a mess, it was a different beast in daylight. Both y/n and Carmen walked to their lockers to grab their emergency toothbrush and other hygiene products in an effort to look less dead. 

Once they freshen up they went their separate ways. Y/n walked behind the counter and pushed some styrofoam cups aside to start the coffee machine. She waited for the coffee to finish brewing before pouring a cup for the three of them. Richie took one of the cups off the counter and disappeared. 

She walked over to Carmen who was throwing away half eaten food from the tables. 

“Here.” she handed a cup over to him and once again their fingers brushed each other but this time she forced herself to ignore the electricity. Whatever she was feeling would be an additional burden to Carmen, one more thing for him to worry about. Carmen didn’t need this right now, he needed some calm and space. 

She heard a soft thanks, and even though she was supposed to give him space she couldn’t suppress the urge to check on him one more time. His eyes were no longer glassy but the dark circles told her everything she needed to know. He glanced up at her face, finally getting his first good look at her since they left the station. He walked over to the kitchen door and signaled y/n to join him right before he disappeared. She heard some shuffling and she walked over to the kitchen after taking one more look at Richie who looked like he was doing better. 

Y/n went to the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised that it was not as bad as the front, it wasn’t great but still miles better. The kitchen was empty but Carmen’s office door was wide open, she peered inside to see him holding a ziplock filled with a bit of ice and water. 

He shut the door and pulled out a chair indicating that she was supposed to sit. She sat and looked up at Carmen before feeling the ice on her forehead. She groaned in discomfort, “You didn’t have to.” Carmen moved the bag around so the cold didn’t hurt. Y/n felt like she wasn’t doing enough, she was supposed to take care of him and here he was taking care of her. That wouldn’t do.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked while avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t look at them without getting distracted and she needed to focus on Carmen. 

“I'm good.” Soft but left no room for elaboration. Y/n knew she couldn’t crack a few jokes to make him feel better, that was wholly inappropriate. She also couldn’t probe for answers either because that would just stress him out, any form of pressure would probably make him feel like a caged animal being cornered. Saying nothing felt like they were ignoring the very obvious elephant in the room. It was like all roads lead to nothing unless Carmen opened up a bit more, which didn’t seem like was going to happen so y/n settled for a distraction.

“Is it bad?” Y/n said while touching the bag of ice barley missing his fingers. She ignored Carmen’s body heat that was radiating onto her side and she also pretended not to notice the way that his lips parted in concentration.

“I'm going to need you to be honest with me, don’t worry I can take it. If I look like shit you’ve gotta tell me so I can get some impromptu bangs or something.”

“You don’t look like shit.” Carmen mumbled.

“I bet I don’t look good,” Y/n swiveled around towards Carmen’s desk for some scissors, “bangs it is.”she exclaimed. Y/n was only joking but she needed a bit of a breather before she broke her own rule about giving Carmen some space. 

Carmen grabbed the chair’s armrest and swung it swiftly so she was facing him again. Her heart leaped out. “You look like how you always do.” He was too much of a wimp to call her breathtaking, the word felt foreign in his head; he could only imagine how disturbing it would be to hear it from his lips. He gently grabbed her chin before putting the ice on her forehead again. Y/n couldn’t escape this time. 

The silence was killing her and she thought she should at least talk about her own experience to let him know that they could talk to each other about stuff like this. 

“I was really scared...” Carmen looked into her eyes and they softened a bit. 

“I was scared that Richie was going to be in jail for basically forever…and …and,” Y/n hesitated, was what she was about to say to Carmen considered cornering him?

“I was scared for you.” Carmen’s hand stalled midair, still holding the bag of ice. He didn’t move for a few moments, “I was worried that this would..” She couldn’t think of what to say next. She could feel the gears in her head working overtime to churn out something that would summarize what she was feeling. “..break you and you wouldn’t let me help you.” She felt her eyes start to burn and a lump form in her throat that was choking her. She wouldn’t cry, he couldn’t deal with his own problems while consoling her. 

“I would have been okay.”

Y/n waited till the lump in her throat stopped burning. “You always are Carmen, but sometimes it’s nice to be better than okay…” She couldn’t do anything about her voice cracking but she might as well finish before she became a mess, “You deserve it.” 

Y/n said her piece and they both simmered in the quiet. A sigh reverberated through the walls and Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes. His lips parted and closed a few times as he tried to formulate a response but nothing he could think off would sound as well-put together as y/n’s thoughts. He felt like he was seven again, a stuttering pathetic idiot who couldn’t say something as simple as a thanks. 

Y/n knew that they were done for now, she had exhausted him so she was finally ready to give him that space that he desperately needed. She slowly got up and slipped the bag of ice out of his hand and walked towards the door. Carmen didn’t look at her as she left but as soon as the door closed, he sank to the floor and sat there for a very long time. 

He finally leaves the office to help with the clean up and is greeted by the crew. Y/n was at the very end scrubbing her countertop which was covered in glitter. As he walks past the crew to survey the damage to the front, he gets a pair of gemstone covered stringy underwear swung towards his face. 

“This is not respect.” Ebra continues to wave the underwear at Carmen’s face.

“No, chef. That is not respect.”

Carmen walked to the front and felt another weight lifted off his shoulder to see that the majority of the mess had been cleaned up. It felt like he was finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. His chest felt a bit lighter and he knew it was thanks to the people around him. 

He walked to the kitchen and started slicing some onions, he would be in charge of family dinner. As he was making the sauce, he couldn’t help but notice that he had yet to hear or see y/n, not that she wasn’t in the restaurant but it was like she was doing her very best not to be noticed. She was quietly peeling garlic and even though Carmen hadn’t responded to her, he could tell that they would be alright. He just knew in his bones that they would come back together, he was going to make sure of it. 

As he opened the tomato can and dumped it in, he noticed a bit of green. Mold? Killing the heat, he swiped the sauce away and picked it up to remove the plastic to reveal a wad of money.

Y/n heard Carmen yell for Richie but she didn’t think much of it before she started hearing, “Shit…Fuck..”

A few minutes later the whole crew were opening cans of tomato sauce to dig out the money that was hidden within. Once all the money was out, Richie cleaned it up and sorted it, the crew cleaned up the sauce and Carmen finished up the pasta. 

They sat down for dinner, but y/n had no appetite. However, she couldn't afford to leave her plate unfinished without drawing attention. She discreetly observed Carmen, piece by piece, just to make sure that he was okay, actually more than okay. His hands were relaxed, she took a bite. His shoulders were at ease, another bite. His jaw was unclenched, yet another bite. And finally, the most crucial part, she stole a fleeting glance into his eyes. As she raised her head slightly to check, to her surprise, their eyes met. Against her instincts, y/n held his gaze. It left her breathless. For the first time, y/n saw a serenity in Carmen's eyes that she had never witnessed before. 

With this newfound contentment, it became evident that Carmen had discovered a new version of stability. If maintaining their current relationship, or lack thereof, could grant him such ease and relaxation, y/n was willing to patiently wait for him to embrace a future together, even if it meant waiting for years or even decades. She didn’t want him to relish in the calm but expect it, expect that life was also fun and full of love. Her wish was for him to experience a life of unwavering stability, so that even if unexpected challenges arose as he always anticipated, he would know he was not alone and that he would always prevail. 

Y/n was proud of him, which is a strange thing to say considering the fact that he was a tax paying adult, but she couldn’t help but give him a small smile that said I see you and I’m so fucking in love with you. 

Carmen wasn’t a poet by any means but he finally understood why people write poems about other people. A picture of y/n would have captured her beauty but a poem would have explained it. It was just a smile and he didn’t know why but it was burned into his memory. Y/n looked away to ask Sydney something but if Carmen closed his eyes she was still smiling at him. Y/n had given him many smiles but he knew at this very moment that he couldn’t last another day without her being his. It wasn’t just a smile, it was the weight behind it, the pressure that it put on his chest when she looked away from him, the gleaming aura that wouldn’t let him look away…

It was everything, it was his everything, you were his everything.

Dinner concluded, everything was cleaned up, and Carmen was no longer in his fantasy land where y/n was being lit by the sunlight or party lights and making him yearn, he had never yearned before. Carmen assumed that seeing her in the shitty kitchen lighting and in her messy apron would bring him back to reality but he was sorely mistaken. The pinnacle of his admiration wasn't confined to the previous night or that particular meal; it persisted, unyielding. It didn’t die down when she spilled a bit of oil on the counter, or when she flipped of Richie for god knows what, or when she sampled Sydney's experimental dish and tactfully suggested it needed something more, or when she stepped over to the side to redo her hair, or when she shook her foot because her legs were aching. He could never get tired of her. He could watch her stirring for days on end, each rotation captivating him anew. He could witness her redoing her hair for centuries, and boredom would remain a foreign concept. He could watch her smiling till the sun exploded billions of years in the future, and still, an insatiable craving for more would persist within him.

Time flew by and before she knew it the clock struck 10:30pm and y/n looked up from her stovetop and realized that she was the only person left in the kitchen. It was a bit strange to be alone in the kitchen without Carmen, it felt like a regular room. It lacked the mystic that Carmen brought into any room. She wandered into Carmen’s office but it was empty. The front was empty as well and y/n was getting a bit worried. She grabbed her cardigan from her locker, turned on her phone flashlight and just went to the back of the restaurant and sure enough she found Carmen lighting a cigarette. The phone light was the only source of light other than a very dim street light at the very end of the block, and the small fire lit on the end of the cigarette. She saw that he was surrounded by quite a few cigarettes, five plus the one he was smoking now. 

Carmen looked like a deer caught in headlights. Y/n leaned on the wall so she could see what was compelling him to stay here for what must have been an hour but it was just a brick wall. Carmen shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her. 

She waved her hand, “I’ve got a sweater and it's not that cold today.” She was getting deja vu. 

“The bricks are rough.” 

Y/n leaned forward to avoid scraping her favorite cardigan but he took this as an opportunity to stand in front of her and slip the jacket through her arms. He straightened the jacket near the neck line. His hand glided down the open panels. Although he didn't physically touch her, she could sense his warmth emanating through the narrow gap. 

Y/n said she could wait but what she wouldn’t give for him to grab the collar and kiss her. His lips were wet from licking them and she didn’t notice that he was staring at her lips too. 

Carmen snubbed his cigarette on the wall near y/n’s waist, and then dropped the cigarette but leaving his hand still there. “Y/n.”

A soft hum escaped her barely parted lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. It was as if she had entered a trance while staring at his lips, and even when he attempted to snap her out of it, she effortlessly slipped back into another spellbound state, captivated by the depths of his eyes.

“I have to kiss you.” 

He searched her eyes for a sign of hesitation but y/n wrapped her arms behind his neck and leaned forward. Carmen closed the gap and at that moment he knew that he was never going to be able to get enough of her. He slipped a hand behind her head and another on her hip. He pushed her deeper against the wall and he was having a hard time thinking, his head was spinning and it was making it difficult to imprint this sensation into his memory. It felt like trying to remember an ocean’s wave or a ripple in the sand. 

His lungs were burning and even though he knew that he couldn’t stay conscious for longer, he couldn’t pull himself away. 

After a few moments, y/n withdrew slightly, locking eyes with him, her beautiful gaze penetrating his soul. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, he instinctively leaned in, their foreheads touching. The kiss left him breathless, yet he yearned to prolong the contact, craving more of her touch.

Their breath mixed with each other before y/n tightened her grip around him and leaned forward to kiss him one more time, this time with a deliberate slowness that amplified the intimacy between them. He made a conscious effort to imprint the sensations in his memory, but they tantalizingly lingered before elusively slipping away, beckoning him to kiss her once more for a more vivid recollection. It felt new even after the first, second, third, and fourth kiss, as if each one unveiled a new layer of their connection. Carmen could die here and people would be able to honestly say that he died a happy man. He smirked against her lips, unable to help himself.

 They pulled away for one last time before Carmen slid his hands down her body and eventually they had lost contact. 

Y/n grabbed his hand and led him back to the restaurant and in the bright lights, y/n looked down at their interlocked hands trying to finally remember the sensation that she had missed a few days prior but was pulled out of it when she noticed that his hands were covered in cuts and scrapes. 

“What the hell happened to your hand?” Carmen's head felt like it was swimming.

He mumbled out a soft, “I think it was the bricks,” and then added, “I told you they were rough.”

“You should have moved them as soon as they started to hurt.” Y/n grabbed for the first aid kit so she could tend to his wounds. 

Carmen didn’t care that his hand was scraped up because he didn’t want any part of y/n digging into the rough brick, and a scuffed hand was a small price to pay.

“Better me than you.”

“You’re literally so annoying, I can't even look at you right now. Take me home, Berzatto.” Y/n humorously rolled her eyes and finished wrapping him up. 

And with that, Carmen finally found himself standing on solid ground, a place of stability and certainty. In the embrace of y/n's love, he discovered a resolute foundation upon which he could build a future with her. He no longer felt adrift, but rather firmly anchored in a love that provided solace.

[nctsworld]

golden hour

✩‌ mark x reader | camping au | established relationship | smut | fluff | 2.1k

SUMMARY | in which you make love with mark in a tent during the golden hour. // part of the connection series

WARNINGS | sexual content, (lovey) pwp, unprotected sex, brief impregnation fetish (breeding kink), some praise kink, oral sex (m and f receiving)

RATING | explicit

AUTHOR'S NOTE | inspirations are (besides the connection teaser vid and pics) jvke's golden hour, mark's golden hour, and this picture i stumbled upon

TAGLIST | @neocitycafe @sehunniepot

NORTH

North is home, where you left behind for this short road trip down the coast of California with the love of your life. 

During this trip, home every night has temporarily been your two-person sized tent being dragged around to different campsites.

This stop is more arid than others, with many rocks and cacti surrounding the ecosystem rather than grass and trees. Because of that and it being an off-peak period in the beginning of spring, it is likely why this campsite has no one else besides the two of you.

Although it takes some time, Mark and you finally finish pitching the tent and setting up the inside around the late afternoon. At this point, you mutually decide to take advantage of the area's solitude.

North of your bodies is also where it all starts. 

Mark and you are lip-locked between initial smiles and giggles. The oncoming sunset's rays beam through the translucent tent, creating a natural, ethereal glow around each other's faces.

There's no hurry. Mark usually doesn't hurry his kissing with you; he likes to savour every moment he can—each groan exchanged, each dip of his tongue into your mouth, and each suck you grant to his plump bottom lip.

But at some point, kissing each other's lips just isn't enough to satiate your desires.

EAST

East is where everything rises. 

Passion ascends as his mouth swerves away from yours, and instead captures the right side of your neck. You gasp sharply, eyes fluttering due to the power of that one spot. It's overwhelming, so much that it makes your knees buckle. You're grateful you're sitting on the ground with your sleeping bags laid out comfortably to catch you at the ready.

You return the favour by kissing places that make him weak—the constellation of moles on his face and neck, that one particular section behind his right ear, and right above his clavicle.

He hotly moans in your ear, letting his hands take a mind of their own. Your waist, thighs, and ass are his to squeeze, his to grip roughly. In turn, your hands latch onto Mark's rugged frame and back, admiring the firmness and contours in each muscle. Then, you begin lifting up his white tee, feeling up his fit stomach.

And at this point, because you're now straddling him, you feel his rising desire blatantly against yours.

Clothes are tossed aside to an area of the tent. Mark, now only in his underwear, aids you in stripping every piece from you, except for your panties.

SOUTH

Without a doubt, the absolute sweetest things happen in the south. 

Mark roams downward your body as you lay flat, displayed beautifully in front of him. Your lover lives up to his name, marking you with gentle kisses over your goosebumped skin. It's due to the slight bite of the breeze that enters the tent.

The sun dives further into the horizon, and your being is now enveloped in the golden hour of the hues of red and gold meshing in the sky and radiating over the Earth.

When he reaches your breasts, he imparts small licks upon your hardened tips, along with kneading and thumbing them throughout. Arching your back, you shiver, more so from his aching teasing than the breeze.

Further south, he traverses and his mouth leaves love upon your stomach before he spreads your thighs apart. He lays on his abdomen, his legs positioned awkwardly as a result of the tent's size, but all the while manageable and comfortable enough to continue.

He snakes his arms around your legs, staring up at you with his shiny, starry eyes. Mark chastely kisses your inner thighs, revering the softness of your skin, then kisses you once over your soaked panties. With that mere move, it causes you to lift your hips up in want.

Impishly, he chuckles and pulls aside the fabric to give one slow, extended lick from your centre to your clit. You gasp at the sensation, but Mark is addicted to teasing you. After he drags your underwear off, he simply continues to innocently kisses your thighs. A whine expels from you as you're about to protest, but then he dives in without warning.

Dulcet whimpers fill the air besides the rustling of the tent and the occasional sound of faraway birds. Mark prides in himself in times like this, having you prettily on display and breaking you down. You're all his to have and to hold—all for him to drink and devour to his heart's content.

Not only does he skillfully lap his tongue against your folds, but he sinks it deep into you and thumbs your clit simultaneously. Your fingers' hold tighten onto his hair the more he plays and unfurls you at the seams.

Noticing your body being keyed up by your tight hair gripping and hip thrashing, he takes you to another plane when he slips two fingers in and tongues your bundle of nerves, scissoring you into madness.

After letting you come down from your high, he pulls away and runs a hand through his disheveled hair, giving you his signature tender smile with glistening lips before it quickly fades into a sinful smirk. Just like that, with one look and a couple of minutes to catch your breath, you're ready to have more fun.

Often in the confines of your bedroom, Mark likes to stand by the bed when he watches you take him into your pretty mouth. Due to the tent's spatial constraints, he's gotten used to shimmying off his boxers and opting to do a standing kneel on your sleeping bags instead.

He strokes himself, preparing for what's to come. Inching nearer in a cat-like position with your ass up in the air, you instinctively jut out your tongue, wetting your mouth at the ready, and fixate on his desire gracing you with its presence.

At first, you stroke with him with your hand on top of his, but then he eventually slips it away and lets you do your magic.

We're back to kissing, but all attention is on his length, from the base to the tip. You dab your tongue at his tip leaking with precum, evidently worked up from before. A dab becomes two, then three, and when his tip is wrapped by your mouth, Mark dispels a high-pitched moan. All of his entirety is quickly loved by you.

Amidst the head bobbing, you ensure to also swipe at the underside of his cock, licking at a particular vein that always entices you when you're on your knees for him.

At some point, he raises an arm behind his head while the other weaves through your hair. With his possession still in your mouth, you glance up at him. Although half-lidded, he stares back intently, maneuvering your hair out of your eyes and bunches the rest into a makeshift ponytail.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts, eyes still trained on you.

Although you would never disregard his praise, you don't need him to tell you you're doing well based on how he grasps harder at the root of your hair and from the trickling of choppy, higher moans that compete with your lewd slopping.

Since you don't want it to end just yet, you draw back soon after. Giving him a sugary fleeting kiss, you then go on all fours in front of him. Taking his sopping desire, all thanks to you, he rubs himself against your folds, then eases into you.

You cry out in pleasure, and adjust to his fullness inside of you. Mark goes at a measured pace—fast enough that it gets you to the edge quicker, but slow enough to make you feel all his inches. Out of habit, you press the back of your hand against your mouth, muffling yourself.

“Don’t hold yourself back, baby,” he murmurs. “We’re all alone out here.” 

You nod thoughtlessly and comply, dropping your hand. It's an uncommon feeling to let yourself go, but you relax and try your best. Your soft moans elevate and gain traction in volume with each movement against your body.

“That’s it,” Mark says, reaching forward to caress your hair and sliding his touch downward to the small of your back. “That’s my girl.” 

Preening in the praise, you moan gutturally in response. The deep sensations enrapture you, blooming to every point of your body. Exerting the pleasure, you fall face-forward into your pillow and bunch some of it beside your head.

He continues to pound into you, groaning, “Love it so much when you moan for me...” 

A few moments later, your lover pulls you up by the arms, bringing your body almost parallel to his and picks up the pace. In this position, it's not as buried, but it's still just as satisfying, being filled with his cock like this.

When he slows the pace down, he releases you, having you land on your arms again. Kissing your shoulder from behind, he pants beside your ear, “Do you wanna switch it up?” 

You shake your head. “Don’t care”—at an unexpected thrust, you gasp sharply—“just want you.” 

Turning your head to face him, he follows-up with an ardent kiss. Despite him holding you by your chin, it's more delicate than you expect, unlike the sex so far. Mark takes a few moments to remind you how, no matter how crude it can be, sex with him will always be laced with love.

The sunset continues to fade as he removes himself from you and lovingly pats your hips, signifying you to turn around. Facing him now, you spread your legs once again for him, and you giggle as he drags you closer to him in one smooth move. He grins with his hair sticking to his perspired forehead, and once again, he lines up with your centre before gliding into your perfection.

In tandem, both parties' eyes tremble at the sensation. He fills you deliciously; for him, you squeeze around him like a vice he never wants to detach from. Hands are dragging along everywhere on each other's skin. Lips crash into the other's, then his to your breasts and yours to his shoulder. You're soon tied chest to chest, hearts racing in synchronicity.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Mark mumbles into your neck. “Love seeing you like this for me.” 

He lightly slaps the side of your thigh, causing you to moan further into his ear. Despite not wanting to, he opts to tear away from you. Readjusting your bodies, he draws you closer by a tight yank of your thigh, bottoming himself out in your crevice and uses his other hand to rub your clit.

He's on a mission to take you to the stars.

“Tell me when you’re close.” 

It doesn't take long for you to get there with how long this has been going on, nor with how skillful he is.

“Look at me, beautiful. Open your eyes,” he orders, his voice dripping with carnal assertiveness. “Look at me as I fill you up.”

You obey, snapping your eyes wide open, about to watch him come undone inside of you. You're transfixed on the point where you intersect, where he disappears so deeply in you.

But then, in a split second, you force yourself to stare down your love. Looking up at him, relishing in his pre-climactic image, you're on the verge of screaming, almost as if you're dying from the pleasure. His breathes come quicker, his facial features twisting. However, he dares not to shut his eyes, wanting to see you fulfill his command until the end of his surmise.

“That’s my good girl, such a good girl…” 

A beautiful low, drawn-out moan emits, and ecstasy permeates through the air, intermixed with the much needed cool breeze. Mark's hips jerk, then stiffen as he spills into you, painting your walls with his thick load.

WEST

And in the west, the sun finally sets almost to completion. The golden hour sinking away into the purple and pink hues of the spring sky. 

A sliver of the last light peeks through the tent's opening and lands directly over your face, the last of the golden hour saying hello and good-bye. 

With your respective sleeping bags covering some parts of your bare bodies, Mark tenderly swipes his thumb over your sun-touched cheek, admiring his angel of light that always leads him home. Just like Polaris in the night sky, you’ll always shine and guide his way back home.

You two eventually eat some prepackaged sandwiches for dinner in the comfort of your tent, but not until he kisses your temple and pulls you in for a tight hug, whispering sweet nothings and running his fingers through your hair until the sky becomes completely pitch black.

[kirain]

You've given us Emmrich taking care of sick Rook. Can you maybe give us Rook taking care of sick Emmrich? Please and thank you

The eerie hum of the Fade outside matched the tension within as Lucanis, Bellara, and Neve entered Emmrich's study. They carried the corpse of a Venatori agent, the body wrapped tightly in a stained canvas. Emmrich rose to greet them, his pale face illuminated by the flickering candles scattered throughout the room. His tall, wiry frame seemed more fragile than usual, his movements slow and listless.

"Emmrich," Lucanis said, setting the body down on the stone slab to the left of the room. "We need your help. There's a chance this agent knew Elgar'nan's location. If we can get answers, we might finally be able to stop him."

Emmrich steeled himself as he studied the corpse. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he managed a faint smile. "Of course. I'll do everything I can."

Vae, who had been observing from the doorway, stepped closer. "Are you feeling all right?" she asked, her cerulean eyes flickering with concern. "You look—"

"I'm perfectly fine," he interrupted politely. "There's no time to waste. If this man's spirit holds the key to finding Elgar'nan, we must act quickly."

With a wave of his hand, the air grew heavy, a slight chill nipping at the back of everyone's necks. As the magic strew through the body, something stirred beyond the Veil, and Emmrich pulled, catching it in his snare.

The corpse twitched. Then its chest heaved with a sharp, unnatural breath, its eyelids snapping open to reveal dull, glassy orbs. Emmrich staggered unexpectedly, but steadied himself, his hands trembling as green energy crackled around his fingers.

"The connection is weak," he gasped. "Guarded, likely due to Elgar'nan's influence. Haste would be appreciated."

"Where is Elgar'nan hiding?" Lucanis asked, plainly.

"Everywhere..." The corpse's mouth moved sluggishly. "And nowhere."

Bellara frowned. "It's being vague on purpose. Let me try." She leaned closer. "Where is Elgar'nan's physical body?"

The corpse let out an ear-piercing screech, its limbs convulsing against the stone. Emmrich winced, his face contorting in pain.

"Are you all right?" Vae asked sharply, rushing to his side as he swayed.

He nodded, though his pallor deepened. "It's fighting me... but I can hold it. Ask again."

Bellara's tone turned forceful. "Where is Elgar'nan's physical body right now. Give us the location."

The corpse writhed, its jaw locking momentarily before a rasping hiss escaped.

"The spirit... resists," Emmrich groaned, his voice strained. "We don't have long, I fear."

Neve, her expression icy but focused, stepped forward. "Enough of the now. Let's try the when." She addressed the corpse. "Where is Elgar'nan planning to attack next?"

The corpse thrashed violently, its head snapping back in defiance, and Emmrich stumbled, his knees buckling, as though some unseen force was pressing down on his shoulders.

"Stop this," Vae demanded, gripping his arm to hold him upright. "Something is clearly wrong."

"Not yet," Emmrich whispered, his voice barely audible. "Neve... ask again."

"Elgar'nan's next attack—where is it going to be?" she emphasised, leaning over the slab.

The corpse choked out two words through clenched teeth. "Castle… ancient..."

With a final, guttural cry, the connection severed, like a taut thread snipped by scissors. The corpse fell limp, and Emmrich suddenly crumpled to the floor.

"Emmrich!" Vae yelled, kneeling beside him. She gently rolled him onto his back, his face tight and drenched with sweat.

"What happened?" Bellara squeaked, horrified.

Vae's brow furrowed as she touched her hand to his forehead. "He's... sick. He had a fever this whole time, and we didn't even notice."

A heavy silence fell over the group as the realisation sank in—they'd pushed him too hard, with no regard for his safety. Neve and Lucanis, ever pragmatic, quickly but carefully lifted him off the floor and carried him to his bed, while Bellara fetched a bowl of water and a cloth, her expression rife with remorse.

"I'm so sorry," she mewled, handing the bowl to Vae. "You told us to stop, but we didn't listen."

Vae shook her head. "Neither did he," she sighed. "I'll take care of him. You three focus on what we've learned. 'Castle', 'ancient'... it's not much to go on, but maybe it's enough. Let the others know, too."

They nodded, then left the room, casting worried glances over their shoulders.

Once alone, Vae sat beside the barely conscious man, soaking the cloth and dabbing his forehead. "You're too kind for your own good," she muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and affection. "I wish you'd tell me when you're not feeling well."

Emmrich's eyes fluttered open, his mind hazy, though his hand reached out, weakly brushing against hers. "Now you... know how it feels," he coughed.

Vae flinched, then gave him a defeated chuckle. "All right, point taken," she assured him, clasping his hand. "I guess I deserved that."

His lips curved faintly before his eyes closed again, his breathing shallow. "But I am sorry, my dear... for frightening you."

"Shh. Just rest now," she hushed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "I'll be here when you wake up."

[sxftmxlki]

Temporary Bliss; Albert Wesker

Pairing; S.T.A.R.S!Albert Wesker x GN!Reader

Genre; Smut

Word Count; 1.5k

Blurb; It's a slow day in the S.T.A.R.S. office and yet your captain is still overwhelmed with paperwork and like the diligent rookie you are, after catching him in the midst of his stress relief, who are you not to help him?

Warning(s); masturbation, voyeurism, blowjob, petnames ('sir', 'pet'), risk of being caught, office sex, Wesker being Wesker, possibly OOC, not proofread, porn w/ some plot.

AN; Probably the most self indulgent fic I have ever written, the Wesker brainworms are worming, lads. Also first ever actual fic on here and it's smut, because of course. F in chat for Chris.

Unfortunately for you and the rest of S.T.A.R.S, it had been a slow day in the RPD, nothing major happening besides a few phone calls and filing reports. The only other company your team gets is a spider scuttling across the floor. 

The unusual complete silence of Captain Wesker’s office soon catches attention, the captain usually at least being heard typing or muttering to himself but instead he was simply dead silent, like he wasn’t even there.

The team quickly began speculating what could cause the captain to be so silent, some suggested he was sleeping on the job, others guessing he was merely indulging in a hobby – like reading. 

But you, for some reason you couldn’t name, felt almost compelled to check Wesker’s office. You were a new recruit on the team, having joined barely two months ago, and in that time your captain never showed any tolerance towards you – always pushing you to do better or write more reports than the others. So, you couldn’t exactly decipher why you were now stood here during the late afternoon lunch break, planning to check on Wesker in his office. Perhaps you believed that if you showed some concern for his well-being, it’d earn you brownie points with him. 

As you stood there, debating whether or not to knock or simply leave, a faint sound caused you to pause. 

It was quiet, nearly imperceptible, you almost thought you had imagined it. But then you heard it again, louder this time. 

A thud, followed by a hissed curse.    You’re not sure what compelled you at that point but you suddenly found yourself pushing the captain’s door open to gaze into the office, and the sight that greeted you made you freeze. 

Wesker was leaning against the edge of his desk, the surface hidden under large piles of paperwork, his shirt and jacket laid haphazardly on the floor and his hand was slowly tracing up the expanse of his stomach towards his chest. 

You knew by that point, you should have just left, forgot you ever saw anything, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

And when you saw Wesker twist his nipple with a heavy breath, you couldn’t deny the hot flush of desire that pooled in your gut. 

Wesker’s hand continued its ministrations on his nipple, pulling and twisting the sensitive bud. He seemed entirely unaware of you watching him as his other hand slowly ran down his stomach, pausing at his belt buckle. 

With practised ease, Wesker undid his belt with a quick flick of his wrist. Making fast work of his pants buttons and pushing the fabric down his thighs, his cock springing free, the flared tip an angry shade of red and already leaking precum. 

Saliva pooled in your mouth as you watched Wesker wrap his hand around the base of his shaft, his head lolling back with a shuddering sigh at the contact. He stayed like that for a moment, simply relishing the feel of his hand wrapped around his thick girth before he slowly began to pump himself. 

Wesker’s breath turned heavier, tilting his head down to watch his hand work his shaft through half lidded eyes. His movements began to pick up, his hand now moving at a pace that made him have to stifle his gasps and moans. 

You hadn’t even noticed you’d been caught watching him until you pulled your gaze away from Wesker’s leaking cock to lock eyes with your captain, his normally icy blue eyes bore into yours with a dark hunger. 

Neither of you spoke for a long minute, Wesker’s hand still working himself as he just stared back at you, until... 

“Come here,” 

Wesker’s voice was low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the controlled, stoic demeanour he always protruded. 

Your legs moved before you could process it, walking into the captain's office, your mind a haze of your own arousal and anticipation. 

Wesker simply watched you for a moment, his face flushed as he fist-fucked himself in front of you. His lips were curled into a slight smirk, the captain not at all annoyed or angry by the revelation you were watching him. 

“I saw you watching,” he finally said, his voice a low growl. “You didn’t come in here just to stare, did you?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone, and you were sure he’d gladly make a show of masturbating in front of you. 

“No, Sir.” The words left your mouth unbidden, fuelled by the arousal and desire building in your gut, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Wesker’s hand stroking his erection. 

Wesker’s fingers curled round your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He studied you a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your gaze kept darting downward. “Then what else are you here to do?” 

“Whatever you want.” Again, the words left you before you could stop them, you were acutely aware that the two of you were still technically in a public office, that someone could walk in at any moment and catch you but the thought only turned you on more. 

Wesker hummed, drinking in your words. Something about them made the coiling feeling in his gut tighten, the thought of you doing whatever he wanted fuelling his arousal. “Whatever I want?” He echoed, chuckling as he leaned closer to you, his breath hot on your face. “Are you sure?” 

For some unknown reason, all words failed you in that moment. You simply stared back at Wesker for a long second, you couldn’t articulate it but, you were sure. You wanted this. Wanted him. 

As you slowly nodded in response, Wesker hummed approvingly, leaning back against his desk and bracing his free hand on the surface. He ignored the few papers that fell to the floor at the sudden disturbance as his voice lowered to a deep, authoritative rumble. “Kneel for me.” 

You didn’t have to be told twice, sinking to your knees in front of him, the sight delighted Wesker more than he cared to admit. “Good pet.” He practically purred, his fingers carding through your hair before grabbing a handful of the soft strands and giving a light tug. 

“Since you’re already there,” he began, pushing your head forward slightly. “Might as well put your mouth to use.” You didn’t realise how close to his cock you were until his leaking tip was prodding at your lips, his precum smearing across your skin in a glistening sheen. You gulped at the sheer size of him, thick and long with a prominent vein running along the underside. 

Wesker notices your hesitance and lets out a disapproving growl, pushing your mouth closer to his cock. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He states simply, the words alone causing another spike of arousal within you as your mouth finally opens, wrapping your lips around the tip. 

Wesker’s head lolls back as you take him in your mouth, his breath leaving him in sharp gasps and his fingers tighten in your hair, only allowing you a few seconds to adjust to the stretch before he began moving your head up and down his shaft.  

The pace he set was firm, slightly uncomfortable but not unwelcome, and when your hands come up to fondle his balls, his stoic composure shattered. 

“Oh, fuck...just like that....you’re so good at this...” The words left him in a low mumble, but they rang out like a gunshot in the otherwise silent office, and you couldn’t deny the pride swelling up inside you. Your response was a hollowing of your cheeks, sucking him off firmly, which earned you a groan from Wesker as he glanced down to watch his cock disappear into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. 

His cock throbs in your throat, and you can tell he’s close. “Fuck...g-gonna-....gonna cum...m’close.....need to-” Wesker’s grip on your hair was borderline painful now but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, your mind a clouded haze dominated only by thoughts of Wesker and the way he’d began to thrust into your mouth at a brutal pace, his tip ramming the back of your throat and causing you to gag around him. 

“Oh, god....shit...I’m gonna....I’m-” Wesker was suddenly cut off by his own loud, sinful moan as he threw his head back in ecstasy. His hand in your hair forcing you down on his cock as his orgasm wracked through his body, your nose was practically flush with his pubic mound.  

Wesker’s moans echoed in his office as his cock shot thick ropes of warm cum down your throat, painting your insides white. He held you at the base of his cock for a long moment after his orgasm, giving a few lazy rolls of his hips as he rode out the last of his high before he eventually let go of your hair, allowing you to pull back off of his cock. 

His vision was hazy, the intensity of his orgasm leaving Wesker’s limbs heavy, but he still managed to gently pet the top of your head. Staring down at you with heavy breaths as he tried to at least compose himself, a few blonde strands of hair had been knocked loose from his pristine hairstyle and were now sticking to his sweaty forehead. 

Wesker was about to speak, his lips parting slightly, before the sound of the door opening caused both of your heads to whip round to see the stunned face of Chris Redfield in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. 

[cosmicflw3rr]

I NEED A FIC WHERE READER GETS HURT DURING RHEAS MATCH AT RINGSIDE AND DOM GETS ALL PROTECTIVE AND STUFF

care for me.

dominik mysterio x fem! reader

summary: getting injured was the worst thing that could’ve possibly happened to you at this stage in your career. dealing with the injury alone was impossible, you needed to let someone care for you. he was that someone.

A/N: this oness longgg😭😭 I got carried away guys I’m sorry😔 and I also kinda don’t like this but yea, I changed it a bit so I’m sorry if it’s not what you were looking for😔😔.

you were about to preform your finisher, a corkscrew senton from off the top rope. you had practiced it countless times and knew that you could pull it off, but it was still nerve-wracking every time. as you looked around at the crowd, the cheers and chants grew louder and more intense, urging you on. you could feel their energy coursing through you, giving you the strength and courage to take the leap.

as asuka rose to her feet, so did you. spotting a gap, you launched into a flip. but as you were about to collide with asuka, she sidestepped. you feet hit the ground with a jolt, a sharp cry escaping you as pain spiked through your right leg.

you crumpled to the floor, gripping your leg tightly, tears streaming down from the intense pain. the referee rushed over, bombarding you with a flurry of questions.

"are you okay?" overwhelmed, you could only respond with your actions, nodding before your voice could catch up. "can you continue the match?" once more, you managed to nod in, despite knowing you should've told him to end the match and acknowledged the pain, you stayed silent.

the referee stepped away, and asuka approached you, yanking you up by your hair hair before shoving you down. you winced, your hand instinctively reaching for your leg. she then snatched your leg away from you and delivered a kick that had you crying in pain.

she kicked your leg again, before locking it into a single leg boston crab. the pain was unbearable, and you found yourself tapping out frantically, your screams echoing in the air.

tears streamed down your face as you pleaded for her to stop. the referee quickly intervened, in an attempt to get her to cease the hold.

"get her off! get her off!" you pleaded with the referee, screaming for him to help you. finally, he managed to separate her from you, but the damage had already been done.

as asuka dancing around to her music, you gripped your hurt leg, tears streaming down. the ref assisted you to sit up, bombarding you with questions that your mind just couldn’t comprehend.

overwhelmed by the pain in your leg, the cheers, and the barrage of questions from the referees, “I can’t move it!” you cried out in frustration, “I can’t move it!!”

"listen," the ref urged, your sobs hushing as you looked at him. "we gotta take you to the medics."

"get dominik, please," you pleaded, your tears subsiding as you covered your face.

"I understand, but we need to get you medical attention first." the referee said, then another ref arrived, both assisting you to your feet.

they supported you out of the ring and onto the floor, your right leg lifted to avoid touching the ground. the audience applauded as you slowly but surely headed backstage.

when you guys reached the medical, the carefully set on the exam table, a wince escaping you as you shifted for comfort. “someone please get dom.” you told them as more tears escaped your eyes.

———

dom was backstage, eyes glued to your match. you were putting up a good fight. he watched as you climbed the ropes, hitting your chest, before doing the shoulder shimmy with your tongue out, paying homage to the late great eddie guerrero.

a soft chuckle escaped him, totally amused. he watched you launch off the ropes, fully expecting to land the move and put asuka away.

as soon as he saw her dodge and your legs buckle beneath you, crashing to the mat, he sensed something was wrong.

he straightened up, hand going to cover his mouth, worry washing over him as the cameras zoomed in on you, clutching your leg.

the camera caught the tears that were streaming down your face while the ref bombarded you with questions. dom glanced at damian beside him, both of them etched with worry.

turning back to the match, dom’s heart was racing.

dom saw the agony in your expression, but you gave a nod, and the ref backed off – he knew you were stubborn and were gonna be set on finishing the match. "what are you doing, amor," he muttered under his breath, cracking his knuckles nervously.

he felt totally powerless watching the attack . asuka approached, yanked you by the hair, and slammed you down.

watching her go after your injured leg, dom felt the anger boiling up inside. she was being ruthless on purpose.

he knew the industry – it's all about the win at the end of the day. but there's also an unspoken rule about keeping it safe enough so no one gets seriously hurt in the ring.

dom’s face twisted in a wince as he saw her strike your leg once more, locking in a single leg boston crab. your cries of pain pierced the air while you tapped out desperately.

the bell rung signaling the match's end, but asuka wouldn't release you. dom could hear your pleas on the TV, begging her to stop. his anger surged as the ref had to pry asuka away from you.

she showed no concern, just preoccupied with her win. dom watched, tense, as the refs swarmed to your side.

“what the fuck was that?" he muttered, taking a deep breath to mask his anger.

damian gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, "go check on her, I'll fill in the others." with a nod, dominkk acknowledged as damian left.

he glanced at the screen, shutting his eyes briefly at the sound of your distress. risinv swiftly, he left the screen behind, urgency driving him as he hurried to find you.

———

In the medical room, joseph, the medic was trying to talk to you, "we need to start checking out your leg to see what's wrong."

you shook your head, tears streaming down. "no, I'm waiting for dominik."

"but—“

"where the hell is he?" you snapped, the words coming out sharper than intended, pain and frustration getting the better of you.

"where is she—?" he stopped mid-sentence as he spotted you and stepped inside. "what happened? are you alright?" dom asked, just having come into the room. he moved closer, gently cradling your face and planting a kiss on your forehead.

feeling his presence, you eased up. "finally."

even with the comfort of his presence, you couldn't help but start to fall apart. he wrapped you up carefully in a soft hug, mindful not to cause you any more pain.

tears streamed down as you clung to him. "It's fucking hurts, dom. It hurts really bad," you wept, squeezing your eyes shut, the agony in your leg overwhelming.

his expression shifted to deep worry at your sobs. gently, he eased back, cradling your face in his hands, coaxing you to meet his gaze. "hey, look at me, please, look at me."

opening your eyes, you met his gaze, a frown etched on your face from the pain. you wished you could just vanish into thin air. your crying softened as you looked at him.

tears welled up again, the timing couldn't be worse—you were at the height of your career, and an injury was the last thing you needed. you attempted to steady yourself, but the mix of pain and stress was starting to wear on you.

he was worried for you, and felt how broken you felt. he felt powerless and wanted to do more to ease your pain. he spoke reassuringly, “you’re going to make it through this, just hold on. I'm right here with you, and everything's going to be alright." you nodded, brushing away your tears.

yet, new tears found their way down your cheeks.

joseph spoke up, addressing dom, "she refused any examination until you got here." Instead of scolding you, dom simply took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

you squeezed back, feeling utterly shattered inside—this injury was a nightmare come to life.

with that, joseph set to work, conducting the necessary tests on your leg. it wasn’t long before he returned with the results. you glanced up at him, your eyes pleading for him to tell you good news, as anxiety knotted your insides.

he gave you a sympathetic look, bracing to deliver the difficult truth. "I'll be honest with you, y/n. and there’s just no easy way to put this, but It's a torn ACL and meniscus."

you bit your lip, holding back the tears. the room was silent until he spoke again. "you probably know a bit about this injury," you nodded. he took a seat on the bed across from you.

"given the severity of your injury, it won't heal by itself. surgery is necessary. It's less common to have a meniscus tear alongside an ACL tear."

"post-surgery, you'll need plenty of rest. then we'll have you gradually start rehab to build strength and mobility in your leg."

you held onto dom’s hand tightly. "how long am I gonna be out?" you murmured.

"you might be out for 6-9 months, maybe a year in the worst-case scenario. It all hinges on how well rehab goes and your recovery process. we've got to be thorough to ensure your leg is back to its best."

a feeling of disappointment hit you. "a year?" you said softly, barely above a whisper.

"It's not a guarantee you’ll be out that long," he reassured, and you nodded faintly. "but we have to be realistic—it's a pretty long recovery," he continued.

you nodded again, masking your emotions. "I'm going to review the other tests we did on your leg. I'll talk to your doctors and we can go over your next steps when I return," joseph said, then left, leaving you and dom in a quiet bubble. the two of you just sat there, enveloped in the stillness.

dom could tell you were reeling from the news, respecting your space and thoughts. he quietly held your hand, providing a comfort while you processed everything.

he couldn't do much, but his support was clear. he believed in you, confident that you'd get through this.

meeting your gaze, dom spoke up his voice steady. "you’ve been through a lot, y/n/n, and you have always made it through. this is just another hurdle. you’ll get past this one too. everything’s going to be okay."

at his reassuring words, the dam burst, and tears cascaded down your cheeks, your hand muffling the sobs.

dom wrapped you in another tight embrace, tenderly wiping your tears and cradling you as you wept. he stroked your back, trying to ease your pain with his comforting touch.

"shhhhh baby, it's gonna be okay. you're gonna be okay." dom whispered, his voice soothing.

"It's just... this has been my dream since I was a kid," you managed to say between shaky breaths, struggling to steady your voice. "I’m at this huge part of my career, a part where-" your words were swallowed by sobs.

your tears began to subside, replaced by soft sniffles. "I'm at this point in my career, where I’m the top—" you paused as tears continued to fall, and you let out a sigh, gazing upwards. "I'm at the top, everything's going great, and now I have this injury and-."

"hey," dom interjected gently, halting your rush of words. he wasn't trying to downplay your feelings, but he wanted to make sure you understood this wasn't the end. his hands cradled your face, guiding your gaze to meet his with kindness.

“I know, I know. but this isn't the end. the last thing I want is for you to believe that all your hard work and dedication is going to waste." you sighed looking up, you knew he was right. but it just felt so hard to come to term with it at this moment.

———

a few weeks later

resting in the hospital bed with nurses bustling around, prepping for surgery, you glanced at dominik, a wave of nerves hitting you. yet you felt a little more secure knowing you had the best surgeons on your service.

dominik leaned in close, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, whispering just for you, "you'll be okay. they'll take care of you, mi vida."

his gentle voice enveloped you in a blanket of security. "I know, I'm just a bit nervous," you replied with a faint smile.

he kept his hold on your hand, his thumb gently caressing the back of it. "you shouldn't be," he murmured, "there’s no reason to be nervous, I’m gonna be right here until you get out and your parents are on the way, everything will be okay."

the nurses signaled it was time for surgery, he stepped back, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead, leaving you with the lingering sense of his comforting warmth.

"I'll be right here," he whispered, giving your hand another squeeze, "te amo."

"I love you too," you responded, feeling his kiss on your forehead followed by a tender kiss on your lips. the nurses began to wheel you away to the operating room, where the stark brightness of the hospital lights was the last thing you saw.

———

your eyes gradually open, the glaring lights making you squint. glancing around, you spot dominik beside you, his thumb soothingly stroking your hand.

gazing at your leg, you notice the brace snugly fitted and bandages beneath it. the beep of monitors fills the air, and a chill from the hospital room wraps around you.

"hey," dominik's voice is a gentle whisper, "how are you feeling?" his hand gives yours a reassuring squeeze. "don't worry, mi vida, everything went well."

"hey," your voice comes out a bit rough, but you manage a soft smile in response.

"are you okay?" he murmurs, concern flickering across his face as he hears the rasp in your voice. he glances at the monitors, checking they're all reading normal, then turns back to you. "are you thirsty?" he asks gently, his eyes filled with care.

you nodded, he grabbed a big jug of water from your bedside table. he grabs the straw, holding it up to your mouth and helping you take a sip of water. you realize how thirsty you were, you drank quickly taking a few sips to quench your thirst.

“better?” he asked, putting the jug down you were done drinking water, you nodded.

suddenly, your gaze moves to the chairs in the room, you see your parents you smile. "mom, dad," you greet them with a gentle yet happy tone. they approach, your dad planting a soft kiss on your forehead while your mom takes your hand in hers.

dominik watches closely as you interact with your parents, he watches them both interact with you with such affection, he can see your face light up when you see them.

he observes the tender scene for a moment, then turns to you with a small, smile. "how are you feeling honey?" your mom asked.

catching her question, you respond, "I'm okay, just a bit sore," your voice scratchy from not talking.

"I’m going to go tell the doctors you woke up." dominik announces before he leans in, whispering, "back in a sec," and plants a gentle kiss on your cheek before exiting the room.

a smile lingers on your face as you turn to your parents. noticing their exchange of smiles, you ask, "what?" with a hint of curiosity.

your mom gently sweeps your hair aside. "he hasn't left your side since you got back from surgery," she shares.

"how long was I asleep?" you asked curiously.

after a brief pause, she calculates, "the surgery took roughly 2 and a half hours, and you've been resting for about three hours since. so, around five hours, more or less."

Surprised, you say, "he didn't get up once? not even for food or like to use the bathroom?"

with an amused look, your mom replies, "nope, he refused to leave your side, I tried to tell him to go take a break but he wouldn't leave. he insisted on staying."

as you reflect on it, butterflies flutter in your stomach. It's reassuring to know he stayed by your side, just as he promised.

you briefly close your eyes, "you tired?" she asked, you nod, allowing your parents to have their own conversation, a mix of worry and relief for your well-being.

a few minutes pass, before the door swings open, and dominik enters to the room. you stir awake at the sound of the door opening and closing.

he greets you with a warm smile, gently caressing your hand and planting sweet kisses on your forehead.

you smile back, and right on cue, dr. smith enters the room. your parents step aside, allowing the doctor to check the monitor next to you, ensuring that everything is running smoothly and your vitals are stable.

dominik stepped back to give the doctors space to examine you.

after the doctor finished up examining you, the looked at you, "your surgery was successful, and we've reconstructed your ACL and meniscus." you glance at your leg propped up on a hospital pillow and nod. "we’ll keep you here for a night or two to monitor your healing progress before deciding on the next steps."

"okay," you said a polite smile on your face as the doctor excused himself and left the room.

your parents embraced you warmly, your dad planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, before they headed out to the cafeteria. you mom told dom to call them if there was any problem or if you needed them.

dominik watches your family leave the room, leaving it completely quiet and still inside, he turns to you, “you alright, amor?” he whispers.

your eyelids were heavy as you murmured, "yeah, I'm good."

a gentle smile crossed dominik's face, noticing how tired you were. he tenderly swept a stray hair from your forehead. "want to get some more sleep?" he asked quietly.

with your eyes closed, you replied, "no, I just need to rest my eyes for a little while."

understanding, dom reached for his phone to update rhea and the rest of the judgment day, letting them know you were awake and all was well.

"rhea and everyone was pretty worried—" dom’s words trailed off as he glanced back to find you already dozing off, gentle snores escaping you.

he gave a tender smile and then did what he knew would be best for you right then. He took the blanket from the foot of your bed, draped it over you, and after positioning a chair near your bedside, he sat down to stay close.

———

as your blinked your eyes open, the room glowed with the soft light of early morning. near your bed, dominik was eating.

"good morning," you said, a sleepy smile on your face as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

dominik caught your voice, glancing your way, before flashing a smile. "morning, baby," he greeted, leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. the subtle, soothing scent of his cologne filled the air, calming you down.

"you grabbed some food?" you asked, your stomach rumbling a bit.

"no, rhea and damian dropped it off. they were going to stay till you woke up, but had to catch a flight to the next show," he explained, and you nodded, totally getting it. he motioned to his meal that looked like it came from the dunkin' donuts nearby. "they got something for you too," he said, sliding over with your food in hand.

"they also got your favorite coffee," he mentioned, pulling up a chair. “do you wanna eat now or later?”

"definitely now," you replied, your hunger making itself known loud and clear.

dominik gave a nod and set the food on the hospital bed tray before you. "everything feeling okay? any pain?" he asked gently, his eyes following you as you started to eat.

you shook your head, mouth full of food, swallowing it before you spoke, "just sore, so it's a bit uncomfortable."

he smiled, seeing how eagerly you were eating. "looks like you're enjoying breakfast.”

"mhmm, it's really good," you managed to say between bites.

"don’t worry when we get out of here, I’ll take you to get dunkin again." he chuckled, amused by your enthusiastic eating.

"please do," you agreed, slowing down a bit. you set the sandwich down, still chewing, as you looked at him.

"you’re the cutest when you eat, you know that?" he murmured with a soft smile, then took a bite of his own sandwich.

you gave a playful eye roll in response. "how's that even cute?" you chuckled, questioning the logic.

"I can't explain it," he chuckled, "you just remind me of a baby dinosaur." he laughed, taking a sip of his coffee.

you burst out laughing. he beams at you. "you don't think so?" he teased, and you just smiled, taking another bite.

you caught him looking your way again before he gently asked, "everything taste okay?"

"yeah, it's perfect, thanks.”

"good," he smiled, then took another bite of his food. “I can’t wait till we get you home,” he said, eyes flicking up to you as he continued eating.

you finished off your sandwich, murmuring, "me too." after wiping your hands, you reached out for his.

he set his sandwich aside and took your hand, fingers intertwining. the warmth from his hand infused into yours.

a small smile played on his lips as he looked at you, "thank you," you said to him.

he glanced at your interlocked hands, noting the size difference with a smile. "of course," he responded gently, appreciating the closeness.

he brought your hand up placing a gentle kiss on it, before giving it a reassuring squeeze, “no seriously, for everything.”

he was silent for a bit. "you don't need to thank me for being there and caring about you." his grip on your hand tightened gently. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

looking at you, his eyes brimmed with fondness. "te amo," he said gently, content to remain just like that for eternity.

"I love you too," you replied with a playful pause, "If you really love me, you'll let me have a sip of your coffee."

he chuckled quietly, "i guess." he said sarcastically after taking a quick sip, you hit his arm lightly as he lifted the cup to your lips for you to drink. It was pleasantly warm and delicious.

"thanks, babe."

with a grin, he replied, "anytime, amor,"

LIKED BY DOMINIK 35, RHEARIPLEY_WWE, ARCHEROFINFAMY, NIKKIGARCIA & 5 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: acl tear has got nothing on me.💪

VIEW COMMENTS

dominik_35: hurry back hermosa, shits not the same without you 🖤

y/n: love you baby🖤

rhearipley_wwe: I need you back to help me deal with the boys😔 heal up soon 🤍

y/n: dw I’ll be back before you know it💗

archerofinfamy: we have your back forever, heal up chiquita💜⚖️

y/n: thank you damian💜

yaonlylivonce: can’t wait for you to come back. 🤍

y/n: love you girlie🤍

jd_mcdonagh: it took an injury to stop you. hurry back sis, we miss you already! ⚖️🖤

y/n: 🖤🖤

finnbalor: you’ll come back stronger and better 💯💜

y/n: 🤍

wwelover: i miss her sm😖

ethereal.st4rr: women’s division isn’t the same without her😒.

nikkigarcia: been there! here to tell you it gets better! you’ll be back and better before you know it!! 🤍

y/n: ❤️❤️

[fluentmoviequoter]

Care Now and Forever (Starting Now)

Part 2 of Care Now and Forever

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: You faint and Deacon takes care of you. As you wonder how he manages to be exactly where you need him to be, Deacon plans to start forever with you.

Warnings: r faints, depictions of anemia/iron deficiency, brief mention of blood, fluff and comfort galore

Word Count: 1.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Yawning again, you glance at the clock and frown. It’s not even lunchtime, but you’re so fatigued you are having trouble staying upright. You stand to refill your water, then lower your hand back to your seat as you grow dizzy. Since the last time you passed out around Deacon, you’ve been better about ensuring your iron levels stay consistent and you are hydrated, but you’re having an off day.

In the kitchen, you get another glass of water and a snack, hoping it will help you feel better and get you through the rest of the day. You check your phone after receiving a text from Deacon promising homemade dinner when he gets off tonight. Before you can reply, your phone rings with an incoming call.

“Hi, Deacon,” you greet. “I was just texting you.”

“Should I hang up and let you finish?” he jokes.

“I suppose I could just tell you. Dinner sounds great.”

“Good. How are you feeling? You sound tired.”

Deacon has a sixth sense about you and your health, so you’re not surprised he can tell that simply from your voice.

“I am, but other than that, I’m all good. How’s work?”

“Slow. Which… Let me call you back? Hicks is calling us over.”

“Sure. I love you.”

“I love you,” Deacon replies before ending the call.

You return to the couch and sit carefully, sipping your water and eating your snack in measured bites. A metallic, coppery taste invades your senses, and your stomach flips as if you ingested blood. After another drink of water, your phone chimes, but you feel off-balance and don’t reach for it, opting to take deep breaths to remain conscious.

A key slides into the lock on your front door several minutes after your head clears, and you furrow your brows as you stand. Deacon steps inside with a bright smile, and you take several hurried steps forward to greet him with a hug. Just before you reach him, you stop and blink once before your legs buckle.

Deacon watches your eyes as he extends his arms. He catches you without a problem and carries you carefully to the couch. Watching your chest rise and fall, Deacon wonders what happened. You were fine earlier; you sounded tired, a symptom of iron deficiency, but you’ve been eating well, staying hydrated, and keeping him updated, so he’s confused about the sudden fainting.

“Hey, you with me?” Deacon asks, gently tapping your cheek.

You hum and squeeze your eyes closed tighter. “Did I faint?”

“Better question is why did you faint?” he counters. “Have you eaten today?”

“Yeah, I ate and drank water. Right before you got here, I got this weird blood taste in my mouth.”

“I’ll make an appointment with your doctor if you want. For now, what do you need?”

You open your eyes, smile, and look pointedly at Deacon's muscular arm resting beside you. He sighs, still smiling, and moves onto the couch to tug you against his chest. Your water and snacks are still within reach, and you take several bites while your senses return.

“Feeling better yet?” Deacon asks.

“I think you’re the magic cure,” you answer with a nod. “Maybe you should just quit your job and stay with me all of the time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier you weren’t feeling great?”

“I thought it would pass, it wasn’t like the last time, just some dizziness and the weird taste.”

“But you’re not actually bleeding?”

“Not that I know of.”

Deacon brushes his hand over your hair and kisses your forehead.

“What do you think happened?”

“Maybe you just missed me so desperately that your body reacted dramatically,” Deacon teases. “Alternatively, you might be slightly anemic or stressed; there are lots of possibilities.”

“You always seem to show up right before something happens,” you muse.

Deacon smiles but doesn’t comment on his ability to be in the right place at the right time when it comes to you. “Do you want me to order dinner?”

“We can cook,” you offer. “I’m feeling much better.”

“Sweetheart,” Deacon sighs. “Don’t jump back into doing too much too fast.”

You nod and grip Deacon’s wrist as you grow dizzy again. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I’ll order the food, you sit here, look pretty, and stay conscious, okay?”

“I can do two of the three, but you have to pick which.”

“Faint and you become a comedian,” Deacon grumbles with faux grumpiness. “Any requests for dinner?”

“You can pick,” you reply. “And, Deacon? Thank you.”

“For?”

“Taking care of me, being here, everything.”

“The care is a given, now and forever, because I love you. I really wish you’d start telling me when you feel off, but I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Your phone buzzes as Deacon makes a call to your favorite restaurant. Unwilling to risk leaning forward, you leave it on the table and watch Deacon. Every little thing he does communicates his care for you, and you’ve known from the beginning that he shows his care in remarkable ways because he loves like you’ve never been loved before.

“Food will be here in thirty minutes,” Deacon says as he returns. “What else do you need?”

“You really want to take care of me?” Deacon smiles because he obviously does, and you ask, “Sit with me?”

Deacon takes the place beside you and welcomes you under his arm. Leaning against his shoulder, you look into Deacon’s eyes and thank him again.

“Will you go to the doctor with me? It’s not fair to either of us that this keeps happening.”

“Anytime,” Deacon assures. “What did you do today?”

“Not much. I got some work done this afternoon but started feeling bad around lunch. You’ll be glad to know I took your advice and rested, drank water, and had some food rather than pushing through.”

“I am glad to know that. However, you keep forgetting the most important advice which is to call me.”

“I think you’re secretly Spider-Man and your senses tingle, so you know to come home anyway.”

Deacon smiles at your phrasing. He doesn’t care that you just compared him to a superhero, but you called your house a collective home, and Deacon thinks the idea of a shared future with you sounds perfect. His promise to care for you forever is just the beginning, and now he wants to start forever with you.